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They answered that he was often up and down the coast, work on the wreck being impossible in rough weather. They supposed he was bringing cargo in his galliot from Wilhelmshaven, all the company's plant and stores coming from that port. He was a local man from Aurich; an ex-tug skipper.

We discussed this information while walking out over the sands to see the channel at low water.

'Did you hear anything about this in September?' I asked.

'Not a word. I didn't go to Juist. I would have, probably, if I hadn't met Dollmann.'

What in the world did it mean? How did it affect our plans?

'Look at his boots if we pass him,' was all Davies had to suggest.

The channel was now a ditch, with a trickle in it, running north by east, roughly, and edged by a dyke of withies for the first quarter of a mile. It was still blowing fresh from the north-east, and we saw that exit was impossible in such a wind.

So back to the village, a paltry, bleak little place. We passed friend Grimm on the bridge; a dark, clean-shaved, saturnine man, wearing _shoes._ Approaching the inn:

'We haven't settled quite enough, have we?' said Davies. 'What about our future plans?'

'Heaven knows, we haven't,' I said. 'But I don't see how we can. We must see how things go. It's past twelve, and it won't do to be late.'

'Well, I leave it to you.'

'All right, I'll do my best. All you've got to do is to be yourself and tell one lie, if need be, about the trick Dollmann played you.'

The next scene: von Brüning, Davies, and I, sitting over coffee and Kümmel at a table in a dingy inn-parlour overlooking the harbour and the sea, Davies with a full box of matches on the table before him. The commander gave us a hearty welcome, and I am bound to say I liked him at once, as Davies had done; but I feared him, too, for he had honest eyes, but abominably clever ones.

I had impressed on Davies to talk and question as freely and naturally as though nothing uncommon had happened since he last saw von Brüning on the deck of the Medusa. He must ask about Dollmann--the mutual friend--at the outset, and, if questioned about that voyage in his company to the Elbe, must lie like a trooper as to the danger he had been in. This was the one clear and essential necessity, where much was difficult. Davies did his duty with precipitation, and blushed when he put his question, in a way that horrified me, till I remembered that his embarrassment was due, and would be ascribed, to another cause.

'Herr Dollmann is away still, I think,' said von Brüning. (So Davies had been right at Brunsbüttel.) 'Were you thinking of looking him up again?' he added.

'Yes,' said Davies, shortly.

'Well, I'm sure he's away. But his yacht is back, I believe--and Fräulein Dollmann, I suppose.'

'H'm!' said Davies; 'she's a very fine boat that.'

Our host smiled, gazing thoughtfully at Davies, who was miserable. I saw a chance, and took it mercilessly.

'We can call on Fräulein Dollmann, at least, Davies,' I said, with a meaning smile at von Brüning.

'H'm!, said Davies; 'will he be back soon, do you think?'

The commander had begun to light a cigar, and took his time in answering. 'Probably,' he said, after some puffing, 'he's never away very long. But you've seen them later than I have. Didn't you sail to the Elbe together the day after I saw you last?'

'Oh, part of the way,' said Davies, with great negligence. 'I haven't seen him since. He got there first; outsailed me.'

'Gave you the slip, in fact?'

'Of course he beat me; I was close-reefed. Besides--'

'Oh, I remember; there was a heavy blow--a devil of a heavy blow. I thought of you that day. How did you manage?'

'Oh, it was a fair wind; it wasn't far, you see.'

'Grosse Gott! In _that_.' He nodded towards the window whence the Dulcibella's taper mast could be seen pointing demurely heavenwards.

'She's a splendid sea-boat,' said Davies, indignantly.

'A thousand pardons!' said von Brüning, laughing.

'Don't shake my faith in her,' I put in. 'I've got to get to England in her.'

'Heaven forbid; I was only thinking that there must