CHAPTER VIII
A Meeting on the Shore
"D'you know, Dulcie," remarked Deirdre, when the chums were alone, "themore I think about it, the more convinced I am there's something queerabout Gerda Thorwaldson."
"So am I," returned Dulcie emphatically. "Something very queer indeed. Inever liked her from the first: she always gives me the impression thatshe's listening and taking mental notes."
"For what?"
"Ah, that's the question! What?"
"I certainly think we ought to be on our guard, and to watch hercarefully, only we mustn't on any account let her know what we'redoing."
"Rather not!"
"She's no business to sneak away by herself when we're all salvaging onthe beach. She knows perfectly well it's against rules."
"She doesn't seem to mind rules."
"Well, look here, we must keep an eye on her, and next time we see herdecamping we'll just follow her, and watch where she goes. I don't likepeople with underhand ways."
"It doesn't suit us at the Dower House," agreed Dulcie.
Though the chums kept Gerda's movements under strict surveillance forseveral days, they could discover nothing at which to take exception.She did not attempt to absent herself, or in any way break rules; sheasked no questions, and exhibited no curiosity on any subject. Ifpossible, she was even more silent and self-contained than before.Rather baffled, the girls nevertheless did not relax their vigilance.
"She's foxing. We must wait and see what happens. Don't on any accountlet her humbug us," said Deirdre.
One afternoon a strong west wind blowing straight from the sea seemed topromise such a good haul at their engrossing occupation that the girls,who for a day or two had forsaken salvaging in favour of hockeypractice, turned their steps one and all towards the beach. As theywalked along across the warren they had a tolerably clear anduninterrupted view of the whole of the little peninsula, and werethemselves very conspicuous objects to anyone who chanced to be walkingon the shore. Deirdre's eyes were wandering from sea to sky, fromdistant rock to near primrose clumps, when, happening to glance in thedirection of the cliff that overtopped St. Perran's well, she wasperfectly sure that she saw a white handkerchief waved in the breeze. Itwas gone in an instant, and there was no sign of a human figure toaccount for the circumstance, but Deirdre was certain it was noillusion. She called Dulcie's attention to it, but Dulcie had beenlooking the other way, and had seen nothing.
"Probably it was only a piece of paper blowing down the cliff," sheobjected. "How could it be anyone waving? Nobody's allowed on thewarren."
"It might be Ronnie and Miss Herbert."
"Oh no! We could see them quite plainly if it were."
"Gerda, did you notice something white?"
"I don't see anything there," replied Gerda, surveying the distance withher usual inscrutable expression. "I think you must have been mistaken."
It seemed quite a small and trivial matter, and though Deirdre, for themere sake of argument, stuck to her point all the way down to the beach,the others only laughed at her.
"You'll be saying it's a ghost next," declared Betty. "I think you'reblessed with a very powerful imagination, Deirdre."
Arrived on the shore, the girls found their expectations fullyjustified. Several most interesting-looking pieces of driftwood werebobbing about just at the edge of the waves, and with a little clevermanagement could probably be secured, and would make a valuable additionto the stack which was to furnish their beacon fire. Jessie Macpherson,who possessed a pair of wading boots, was soon in command, directing theothers how to act so that none of the flotsam should be lost, andmarshalling her band of eager volunteers with the skill of acoastguardsman.
"Wait for the next big wave! Have your hockey sticks ready! Doris andFrancie and I will wade in and try to catch it, then, when the wave'sgoing back, you must all make a rush and try to hold it. Not this wave!Wait for that huge one that's coming. Are you ready? Now! Now!"
The owners of the wading boots did their duty nobly. They caught at thefloating piece of timber and held on to it grimly, while a line of girlsfollowed the retreating wave, and, making a dash, seized the trophy, androlled it into safety.
"Oh, it's a gorgeous big one--the largest we have!"
"That was neatly done!"
"We've robbed old Father Neptune this time!"
"It's a piece of luck!"
"Of flotsam, you mean!"
"Three cheers for the beacon!"
"Hip, hip, hip, hooray!"
"Hooray! Hooray!" echoed Dulcie, then she looked round, and suddenlytouched Deirdre on the arm.
In the midst of the general excitement Gerda had vanished. Where had shegone? That was the question which the chums at once asked each other. Itwas impossible that in so short a space of time she could have scaledthe steep path from the cove on to the top of the cliff. She must surelyhave run along the shore instead. To the east the great mass of cragsformed an impassable barrier, but it was just practicable to round theheadland to the west. Without a moment's delay they dashed off in thatdirection. They tore in hot haste over the wet sand, scrambled anyhowamongst the seaweed-covered rocks at the point, regardless of injury toclothing, and, valiantly leaping a narrow channel, turned the corner,and found themselves in a second cove, similar to the former, but largerand more inaccessible from the cliffs. They were rewarded for theirpromptitude, as the first sight that caught their eyes was Gerda,speeding along several hundred yards in front of them, as if she hadsome definite object in view.
"Shall I shout after her?" gasped Dulcie.
"Not for the world," returned Deirdre. "We mustn't let her know she'sbeing followed."
"If she looks back, she'll see us."
"We'll hide behind this rock."
"She'll be round the next corner in a minute."
"So she will. Then, look here, we must wait till she's gone, and thenclimb up the cliff, and run along and peep over from the top."
"Whew! It'll be a climb."
"Never mind, we'll manage it. Let us take off our coats and carry them.I'm so hot."
Deirdre's precautions proved to be most necessary. Gerda turned at thefar headland, and took a survey of the bay before she scrambled roundthe point. She did not see the two heads peeping at her from behind thebig rock, and, apparently, was satisfied that she had eluded pursuit. Nosooner had she disappeared than Deirdre and Dulcie hurried forth, and,choosing what looked like a sheep track as the best substitute for apath, began their steep and toilsome climb. Excitement and determinationspurred them on, and they persevered in spite of grazed knees andscratched fingers. Over jagged pieces of rock, between brambles thatseemed set with more than their due share of thorns, catching on totufts of grass or projecting roots for support, up they scrambledsomehow, till they gained the level of the warren above.
The course that followed was a neat little bit of scouting. Making abee-line for the next cove, they then dropped on their hands and knees,and, crawling under cover of the gorse bushes to the verge of the cliff,peeped cautiously over. Gerda was just below them, standing at the edgeof the waves and looking out to sea. This creek was a much smaller andnarrower one than the others, and the rocks were too precipitous tooffer foothold even to the most venturesome climber.
Well concealed beneath a thick bush that overhung the brow of the crag,Deirdre and Dulcie had an excellent view of their schoolmate's movementswithout fear of betraying their presence. Gerda stood for a moment ortwo gazing at the water, then she gave a long and peculiar whistle, notunlike the cry of the curlew. It was at once answered by a similar onefrom a distance, and in the course of a few minutes a small white dinghyshot round the point from the west. It was rowed by a big, fine-looking,fair-haired man, who wore a brown knitted jersey and no hat.
With powerful strokes he pulled himself along, till, reaching theshallows, he shipped his oars, jumped overboard, and ran his littlecraft upon the beach. He had scarcely stepped out of the water beforeGerda was at his side,
and the two walked together along the beach, heapparently asking eager questions, to which she gave swift replies. Upand down, up and down for fully ten minutes they paced, too absorbed intheir conversation to look up at the cliff above, though had they doneso they would scarcely have spied the two spectators who cowered closeunder the shelter of the overhanging hazel bush, squeezing each others'hands in the excitement of the scene they were witnessing.
The man appeared to have many directions to give, for he talked long andearnestly, and Gerda nodded her head frequently, as if to show herthorough comprehension of what he was saying. At last she glanced at herwatch, and they both hurried back to where they had left the boat. Helaunched his little dinghy, sprang in, seized the oars, and rowed awayas rapidly as he had arrived. Gerda stood on the beach looking after himtill he had rounded the point and disappeared from her view, then,crying bitterly, she began to walk back in the direction from which shehad come. Deirdre and Dulcie waited until she was safely past the cornerand out of sight, then they sprang up and stretched their cramped limbs,for the discomfort of their position had grown wellnigh intolerable.
"Ugh! I don't believe I could have kept still one second longer,"exploded Dulcie.
"My feet are full of pins and needles," said Deirdre, stamping herhardest, "and my elbow is so sore where I have been leaning on it, Ican't tell you how it hurts."
"It can't be worse than mine."
"I say, though, we've seen something queer!"
"Rather!"
"Who can that man be?"
"That's just what I want to know."
"It looks very suspicious."
"Suspicious isn't the name for it. Do you think we ought to tell MissBirks?"
"No, no, no! That would never do. We must say nothing at all, but go onkeeping our eyes open, and see if we can find out anything more. Don'tlet Gerda get the least hint that we're on her track."
"Suppose Jessie asks us why we left the cove? What are we to say?"
"Why, that we missed Gerda, and as she's our room-mate, we went over thewarren to see if we could find her and make a threesome. It was ourplain duty."
Dulcie chuckled.
"Oh, our duty, of course! And naturally, of course, we didn't find heron the warren. She wasn't there."
"She'll have to make her own explanations if Jessie asks her where shewas."
"Trust her for that!"
"I wonder what excuse she'll give?"
THE MAN APPEARED TO HAVE MANY DIRECTIONS TO GIVE_Page 95_]
As it happened, everything turned out most simply. Deirdre and Dulcieovertook Gerda farther on along the warren, and concluded that she hadprobably climbed up from the second cove by the same path as themselves.They discreetly ignored her red eyes and made some casual remarks uponthe weather. The three were walking together when the rest of the schoolcame up from salvaging. The head girl looked at them, but seeing thatthey formed an orthodox "threesome" made no comment, and passed on. Sheprobably thought they had been taking a stroll on the warren. Gerdalooked almost gratefully at her companions. She had evidently feltafraid lest they should mention the fact that she had not been with themthe whole time. She made quite an effort to speak on indifferentsubjects as they walked back, and was more conversational than they everremembered her. At tea-time, however, she relapsed into silence, andduring the evening nobody could draw a word from her. Dulcie woke onceduring the night, and heard her crying quietly.
The two chums puzzled their heads continually over the meaning of thestrange scene they had witnessed. Many were the theories they advancedand cast aside. One only appeared to Deirdre to be a really possibleexplanation.
"I'll tell you what I believe," she said, "I think that man in the brownjersey is a German spy. You know, although Gerda sticks to it that sheis English, we've always had our doubts. She looks German, and shespeaks better German than Mademoiselle, though Mademoiselle's Swiss, andhas talked two languages from babyhood. Gerda isn't an English name. Shesays it was taken from Gerda in 'The Snow Queen', but can one believeher? I'm called 'Deirdre' because my family's Irish, and it's an oldCeltic name, but 'Gerda' is distinctly Teutonic. Then she spellsThorwaldson 'son' but in one of her books I found it writtenThorwaldsen, which is most suggestive. No, mark my words, she's aGerman, and she's come here as a spy."
"What has she to spy on?" asked Dulcie, deeply impressed.
"Why, don't you see? A knowledge of this part of the coast would besimply invaluable to the Germans, if they wanted to invade us. All thesenarrow creeks and coves would be places to bring vessels to and landtroops, and the Castle could be taken and held as a fort, and perhapsthe Dower House too."
"Is that why she was measuring the passage?"
"It might very easily be! She'd give them a plan of the school."
"Oh! Would they come and turn us out and kill us?"
"One never knows what an enemy might do. This bit of shore is not at allwell protected; we're a long way from a coastguard station on eitherside. It's just the sort of spot where a whole army could be quietlylanded in a few hours, before anyone had an inkling of what was goingon. There's no doubt that we ought to watch Gerda most carefully. It maymean saving our country from a terrible catastrophe."