“Incidentally, I don’t know how we shall get back without you,” I pointed out. “You see, we sent the motor-boat on.”
“By Jove, so you did!” Hilderman exclaimed. “Well, that settles it, Fuller.”
“I could take them on the Fiona and put them ashore,” his companion persisted. Hilderman gave Fuller a look which seemed to clinch the matter, however, for the little man beamed at me through his spectacles, and explained that if he took us in his yacht it would be killing two birds with one stone.
“Still, of course, my dear fellow,” he concluded, “you must please yourselves entirely.”
So we saw him safely on board the Fiona, and then started for Invermalluch in Hilderman’s magnificent Wolseley launch.
“Fuller knows me,” he explained, by way of apology. “I go up with him sometimes as often as three times a week, but I gathered that you asked me with a view to discussing the mystery of the green flash, or whatever you call it.”
“You’re quite right; I did,” I replied. “I simply want you to come and have a look at the river, and see what you can make of it.”
“Anything I can do, you know, Mr. Ewart,” he assured me, “I shall be delighted to do. If you think it will be of any assistance to you if I explore the river with you—well, I’m ready now.”
From that we proceeded to give him, at his request, minute details of Garnesk’s conclusions on the matter, and I am afraid I departed from the truth with a ready abandon and a certain relish of which I ought to have been most heartily ashamed.