“Oh, it’s too good of you,” stammered Davies, in a more unhappy accent than usual. “We can easily find one for ourselves. A man at Wangeroog offered——”
“Oh, did he?” interrupted von Brüning, laughing. “I’m not surprised. You don’t know the Frieslanders. They’re guileless, as I said, but they cling to their little perquisites.” (I translated to Davies.) “They’ve been cheated out of wrecks, and they’re all the more sensitive about ducks, which are more lucrative than fish. A stranger is a poacher. Your man would have made slight errors as to time and place.”
“You said they were odd in their manner, didn’t you, Davies?” I put in. “Look here, this is very kind of Commander von Brüning; but hadn’t we better be certain of my plans before settling down to shoot? Let’s push on direct to Norderney and get that letter of mine, and then decide. But we shan’t see you again, I suppose, Commander?”
“Why not? I am cruising westwards, and shall probably call at Norderney. Come aboard if you’re there, won’t you? I should like to show you the _Blitz_.”
“Thanks, very much,” said Davies, uneasily.
“Thanks, very much,” said I, as heartily as I could.
“Well, gentlemen, I must take leave of you,” said our friend. “I have to drive to Esens. I shall be going back to the _Blitz_ on the evening tide, but you’ll be busy then with your own boat.”
It had been a puzzling interview, but the greatest puzzle was still to come. As we went towards the door, von Brüning made a sign to me. We let Davies pass out and remained standing.
“One word in confidence with you, Herr Carruthers,” he said, speaking low. “You won’t think me officious, I hope. I only speak out of keen regard for your friend. It is about the Dollmanns—you see how the land lies? I wouldn’t encourage him.”
“It’s only a hint. He’s a splendid young fellow, but if anything—you understand—too honest and simple. I take it you have influence with him, and I should use it.”
“I was not in earnest,” I said. “I have never seen the Dollmanns; I thought they were friends of yours,” I added, looking him straight in the eyes.
“I know them, but”—he shrugged his shoulders—“I know everybody.”
“What’s wrong with them?” I said, point-blank.
“Softly! Herr Carruthers. Remember, I speak out of pure friendliness to you as strangers, foreigners, and young. You I take to have discretion, or I should not have said a word. Still, I will add this. We know very little of Herr Dollmann, of his origin, his antecedents. He is half a Swede, I believe, certainly not a Prussian; came to Norderney three years ago, appears to be rich, and has joined in various commercial undertakings. Little scope about here? Oh, there is more enterprise than you think—development of bathing resorts, you know, speculation in land on these islands. Sharp practice? Oh, no! he’s perfectly straight in that way. But he’s a queer fellow, of eccentric habits, and—and, well, as I say, little is known of him. That’s all, just a warning. Come along.”