The seconds passed, my finger on the trigger and my eyes glued to the largest crevice I could spy in that wall, but there never another flash or orack. And then it suddenly struck me that the man might be moving down the wall to get a shot at me from another angle. As usual I acted on impulse, and this time I think correctly. Scarcely had the thought struck me than I was up and rushing forward to the shelter of the grass bank where the rooks began. There, quite safe but rather cramped, I crept along parallel to the wall for about a hundred yards. And then I jumped up, charged the wall, and brought half of it down as I hurled myself

As my feet touched the ground I looked in both directions, very nearly simultaneously, and saw-nothing.

Whether in that first instant I was more disappointed or relieved, I should be afraid to say; but as soon as I had had a few seconds to think, my one feeling was disgust that the fellow had given me the slip. I took to my heels and ran along that wall first in one direction and then in the other, but there was not a sign of a living creature. And the sickening thing was that by this time he might have done one of several things-headed away from the shore at top speed as soon as he ceased firing, in which case he would be far enough by now, or lain down in one of the several fields of corn near by, or crossed the wall farther along and hidden among the rooks; and

it was quite impossible to guess which. I pondered over the problem for a few moments, and then decided that as it was perfectly hopeless to search the corn or the beach, I would risk it and hasten inland on the offchance of getting a clue, so I chose a grass field and set off across it at a trot.

The ground rose for about fifty yards and then fell sharply, and as I topped this rise I came right on to a familiar figure. It was my friend Jock, and he seemed unusually excited-almost, in fact, intelligent.

"Stranger!" he gabbled, pointing in the direction I was going. "Jock seen stranger!"

I followed his dirty finger, and a couple of hundred yards or so ahead I spied a figure strolling along a by-road— rather ostentatiously strolling, it seemed to me.

"Thank you, Jock," said I, "you're a good man! Here's your half-crown!"

I dropped to a walk now, and by the time the stranger and I met I think I looked about as cool as he did. It was Mr O'Brien, as I had guessed at the first glance.

"Been for a walk?" he inquired.

"Having a stroll along the shore," said I.

He started a little and looked at me hard.

"Hullo!" said he, "I could have sworn you talked like a foreigner the last and first time. I had the honour of meeting you. Were we both sober, do you think?"

I in turn looked at the man

keenly. If his surprise was not genuine, it was as good a bit of acting as I ever saw, on or off the stage, and it was exactly the most disarming thing he could possibly say. Indeed, it turned the tables on me completely, and it was I who was now left in the position of having something awk ward to explain away.

"It must have been the weather," I said lightly. "I'm never drunk before lunch."

"And be damned if I get the ohance at any time of day! You've heard of my sad complaint, eh?"

"No," said I, "I'm afraid I haven't. Nothing infectious?" He gave one of his unpleasant hoots of laughter.

"Lord, you think I'm a respectable member of society then? Good for you; keep on thinking it—but you'll have to keep away from my friends!" "It takes me all my time to keep clear of my own," said I. His narrow eyes seemed to approve of me.

"You're not Irish?" he inquired.

"No; I've enough to answer for without that.'

"You ought to be," said he. "You've got some wit. Damn the English, and double-damn the Sootoh! Well, we're evidently both going in the other direction, so good-bye to you!"

What was I to make of this? What was to be thought of the whole morning's adventure? Only one thing was perfectly

clear to me, that I had a very dangerous, very determined, and very artful enemy in this island-or, almost certainly, several enemies, and that instead of the hunter I had become the hunted. They might fear me, but they certainly did not fear to attack me whether by day or night. Had I sat down behind that trellis-like wall as I intended, I shivered a little to think of my fate. I should have been shot at twelve inches' range, and that would have been the end of my spy-hunt. I began to realise that it was much longer odds on my being dead within the next forty-eight hours than on my getting on the tracks of that oilskinned man.

And then as I was walking back thinking these none too cheery thoughts, something put the parachute into my head. I had not thought of it before since the first night when I hid it. It took me a little time to get my bearings, but I found my way to the clover field at last, and then made for the low wall, with the bed of rank grass and docken leaves beneath it. I hunted up that wall and down that wall, but never a sign of the parachute was there.

"That is how they've bowled me out!" I said to myself. "They have heard by this time of the missing balloon; then they found the parachute, saw that the dates coincided, and spotted me!"

The seconds passed, my finger on the trigger and my eyes glued to the largest crevice I could spy in that wall, but there was never another flash or orack. And then it suddenly struck me that the man might be moving down the wall to get a shot at me from another angle. As usual I acted on impulse, and this time I think correctly. Scarcely had the thought struck me than I was up and rushing forward to the shelter of the grass bank where the rooks began. There, quite safe but rather cramped, I orept along parallel to the wall for about a hundred yards. And then I jumped up, charged the wall, and brought half of it down as I hurled myself over. As my feet touched the ground I looked in both directions, very nearly simultaneously, and saw-nothing.

Whether in that first instant I was more disappointed or relieved, I should be afraid to say; but as soon as I had had a few seconds to think, my one feeling was disgust that the fellow had given me the slip. I took to my heels and ran along that wall first in one direction and then in the other, but there was not a sign of a living creature. And the sickening thing was that by this time he might have done one of several things-headed away from the shore at top speed as soon as he ceased firing, in which case he would be far enough by now, or lain down in one of the several fields of corn near by, or crossed the wall farther along and hidden among the rooks; and

it was quite impossible to guess which. I pondered over the problem for a few moments, and then decided that as it was perfectly hopeless to search the corn or the beach, I would risk it and hasten inland on the offchance of getting a clue, so I chose a grass field and set off across it at a trot.

The ground rose for about fifty yards and then fell sharply, and as I topped this rise I came right on to a familiar figure. It was my friend Jock, and he seemed unusually excited-almost, in fact, intelligent.

"Stranger!" he gabbled, pointing in the direction I was going. "Jock seen stranger!"

I followed his dirty finger, and a couple of hundred yards or so ahead I spied a figure strolling along a by-roadrather ostentatiously strolling, it seemed to me.

"Thank you, Jook," said I, "you're a good man! Here's your half-crown!"

I dropped to a walk now, and by the time the stranger and I met I think I looked about as cool as he did. It was Mr O'Brien, as I had guessed at the first glance.

"Been for a walk?" he inquired.

"Having a stroll along the shore," said I.

He started a little and looked at me hard.

"Hullo!" said he, "I could have sworn you talked like a foreigner the last and first time I had the honour of meeting you. Were we both sober, do you think?"

I in turn looked at the man

keenly. If his surprise was not genuine, it was as good a bit of acting as I ever saw, on or off the stage, and it was exactly the most disarming thing he could possibly say. Indeed, it turned the tables on me completely, and it was I who was now left in the position of having something awkward to explain away.

"It must have been the weather," I said lightly. "I'm never drunk before lunch."

“And be damned if I get the chance at any time of day! You've heard of my sad complaint, eh?"

"No," said I, "I'm afraid I haven't. Nothing infectious?" He gave one of his unpleasant hoots of laughter.

"Lord, you think I'm a respectable member of society then? Good for you; keep on thinking it—but you'll have to keep away from my friends!" friends!" "It takes me all my time to keep clear of my own," said I. His narrow eyes seemed to approve of me.

"You're not Irish?" he inquired.

"No; I've enough to answer for without that."

"You ought to be," said he. "You've got some wit. Damn the English, and double-damn the Scotoh! Well, we're evidently both going in the other direction, so good-bye to you!"

What was I to make of this? What was to be thought of the whole morning's adventure? Only one thing was perfectly

clear to me,-that I had a very dangerous, very determined, and very artful enemy in this island-or, almost certainly, several enemies, and that instead of the hunter I had become the hunted. They might fear me, but they certainly did not fear to attack me whether by day or night. Had I sat down behind that trellis-like wall as I intended, I shivered a little to think of my fate. I should have been shot at twelve inches' range, and that would have been the end of my spy-hunt. I began

to realise that it was much longer odds on my being dead within the next forty-eight hours than on my getting on the tracks of that oilskinned

man.

And then as I was walking back thinking these none too cheery thoughts, something put the parachute into my head. I had not thought of it before since the first night when I hid it. It took me a little time to get my bearings, but I found my way to the clover field at last, and then made for the low wall, with the bed of rank grass and docken leaves beneath it. I hunted up that wall and down that wall, but never a sign of the parachute was there.

"That is how they've bowled me out!" I said to myself. "They have heard by this time of the missing balloon; then they found the parachute, saw that the dates coincided, and spotted me!"

When I got back I felt very little inclined for society. I passed through the hall as quietly as I could, went straight up to my room, and heaved a sigh of relief when the door was safely shut behind me. Perhaps my adventures had been following a little too quickly on the heels of one another; anyhow it was quiet which I craved at that moment. It was a reposeful room, scented with honeysuckle, and for a few minutes I enjoyed an unwonted sensation of peace; and then my eyes chanced to fall on the chest of drawers. I stared for a moment, and then bent over the look of the upper drawer, that drawer which concealed the mythical uniform coat, with the important mythical papers in the pocket.

There could not be a shadow of doubt as to what had happened. The lock had been taken off and put in again since I last saw it. And now, of course, my hosts knew as well as I did that no uniform coat had ever lain there, and consequently that their guest had never worn one.

I had meant to slack, but this situation obviously required some thinking over, so I lit a pipe, threw myself down on the bed, and began.

"Bowled out again!" I thought. "At the rate the wickets are going down the innings must be dashed near over. They've found out my German accent was a fake, they've discovered the para

chute, and know I neither landed from a British cruiser nor a German submarine, and now they know that I lied about that coat.

"And what is my own score? By Gad, I don't honestly think I've made a single run! I have no idea whether these discoveries have been made by people in league with one another, who pool their knowledge, or whether my enemies only know part of all this, and if so, which part. However, that matters less since they know enough to shoot at sight.

"Furthermore, I don't know which of them are my enemies, or how many there are, or in fact any dashed thing about them. Therefore

At that point I fell fast asleep. My late night, the long morning in that stirring air, and the excitement of two missed-by-a-hair's-breadth murders, had trundled me out again. The last wicket was down, and the innings over as I slept. The one bit of luck I did have was not setting the bed on fire with my pipe.

It was about three o'clock when I went up to my room. It was 6.10 when I was awakened by a sharp click. I opened my eyes and looked stupidly all round the room. There was absolutely nothing to be seen there. Then with a strong presentiment I jumped up and tried to open the door. It was as I suspected. I was locked in.

My hand went to my hippocket and found my revolver