Here the Professor remarked a little impatiently that the officer of an enemy ship was not a spy.
"Stafford found out the eyrie a week ago"--the old Professor chuckled again--"and, of course, I got to hear of it. He had men waiting in that cave until, Murphy tells me, they came out whitened like celery in the dark. And he got Guinane there easily last night. He told me all about it outside just now. Guinane has given it all away."
"But--then, who----?" Gheena sat down on an upturned box; she felt she needed support.
The Professor merely chuckled cryptically, making no reply.
At this the old gentleman also sat down on another box which was not up to his weight. Extracting himself from the ruins, he said "You too," and abused the flimsy nature of grocery boxes.
"The fellow's store full of petrol," grunted the Professor--"his new house, y'know. Guinane was well paid."
Ned Murphy thrust an anxious face into the room. "If any could guide the mother, sir?" he whispered. "He is bleedin' and a shiver sot in on him, an' he won't come anear the fire, but mutherin' words half delarious. If we could get him where he'd be cared an' there wouldn't be talk! Th' ould docther, if ye brings him here, 'll be chatterin' for all the world like a magpie."
Gheena said sharply that she could drive the car, but not in a blanket.
Mr. Murphy was a married man. He produced a penknife eloquently, and suggested a couple of slashes an' a taste of twine would make a skhirt while ye'd be waitin'.
Gheena, still bewildered, stood in meek silence, her blanket reft from her to be rent in twain. The skirt manufactured by Murphy would not have done for Ascot, but it complied with decency. Very quietly the girl went out into the still, dim night, looking back once at the polite lieutenant lying in stupor on the floor. She was not at all sure that he would not vanish.
Someone walking feebly was helped out by two coastguards. Gheena did not turn to look; she kept her head down.
"And for Heaven's sake remember you're not driving Darby's tin-kettle twelve-power," said a weak but unashamed voice, "and go slow. I wanted them to get a donkey cart for me."
Gheena said "Where to?" as she slipped the clutch--was she in this nightmare to drive to the county gaol twelve miles away? The Professor replied, "Why, Mrs. Maloney's, of course!" rather peevishly. He was watching the nearness of the banks in the narrow lane and the pace at which their dark shapes were sliding by.