At last Grenier declared himself satisfied.
"What do you think of the result?" he demanded, facing about so that the other could see both Anson and himself.
"First-rate. It would deceive his own mother."
A terrific rat-tat sounded on the outer door.
A direct summons to the infernal regions could not have startled both men more thoroughly. Grenier, with the protecting make-up on forehead and cheeks, only showed his terror in his glistening eyes and palsied frame. Mason, whom nothing could daunt, was, nevertheless, spellbound with surprise.
What intruder was this who knocked so imperatively? They were a mile and a half from the nearest habitation, four miles from a village. What fearful chance had brought to their door one who thus boldly demanded admission? Had their scheme miscarried at this vital moment? Had Anson suspected something and arranged that he should be followed by rescuers--avengers?
The sheer agony of fear restored Grenier's wits. He was not Grenier now, but Philip Anson, a very shaky and unnerved Philip Anson, it was true, but sufficiently likelife to choke off doubting inquiries.
He clutched Mason's arm and pointed a quivering finger toward Philip.
"Out with him! This instant! The tide is high!"
Mason reached for the life-preserver with horrible purpose.
"No, no. No more noise. Quick, man. You must go to the door. Only summon me if necessary. Oh, quick!"
He rushed to another door and opened it. There was a balcony beyond. It overhung the very lip of the rock. Far beneath, the deep blue of the sea shone, and naught else.
Mason caught up Anson's limp form and ran with him to the balcony. With a mighty swing he threw him outward, clear of the cliff's edge. For a few tremulous seconds they listened. They thought they heard a splash; then Mason turned coolly to Grenier:
"I can see none. Now, the door! Keep inside!"
With quaking heart he listened to Mason's heavy tread along the passage and across the kitchen. He clinched the back of a chair in the effort to calm himself by forcible means. Then he heard the unbolting of the door and the telegraph messenger's prompt announcement:
Grenier subsided into the chair he held. This time he was prostrated. He could scarce open the flimsy envelope.