The Man from the Sea by Michael Innes Page A

wondering if she could conceivably guess what he was talking about. But that was too tall an order, since he didn’t really understand it himself. “You see,” he said again, “I’ve made up my mind to something. I did it the instant I caught another glimpse of that chap outside. I’m going to take Day to London.”
    “Is that right? Oughtn’t you to speak to Alex? He’s amazingly…enlightened and tolerant.”
    He shook his head – and wondered at the same time why her words sounded so very little like a testimonial. “I couldn’t do that and then ask Sir Alex to back my plan. He has responsibilities that I don’t have. If I miscalculate and am disgraced it doesn’t much matter. But you – you people must be kept clear.”
    For the first time Sally gave a small exclamation as of pain. But her voice was hard again. “No scandal at Dinwiddie?”
    Cranston made no direct reply. She was entitled to come out with these cracks. And yet there was something queer about them. “Shall I explain about you guarding him?” he asked. “I want to go and get the car – and at the same time cook up some story for my people at home. I can’t be certain of doing it in less than an hour – perhaps longer. And meantime there’s this chap outside. I suspect that he’s merely guessing that Day has gone to earth somewhere round Dinwiddie. But it’s conceivable that he successfully sleuthed after us in the night. Anyway, he’s almost certainly awaiting instructions and reinforcements, and is simply keeping an eye on things meanwhile.”
    “He’s very strategically placed.” Sally’s tone showed that she had been thinking quickly. “The garden wall runs right to the cliff, and in the other direction he can watch the castle road all the time.”
    Cranston nodded. “That’s true. Of course I can get away by going down the cliff on the other side. Arriving back with the car is a different matter. I’ll have to think it out. But my point at the moment is that he just might try to climb in. He’s lost his gun, but he may have something ugly in the way of a knife. And as Day seems to be really almost blinded for the time being, he couldn’t put up much of a show. So could you get a gun, and plant yourself where you could keep an eye on the summerhouse?”
    “I can always get a gun. But the garden’s an odd place to be found taking it to.”
    “Perhaps a carrion crow, or something like that?”
    “No doubt I can think of a suitable lie.” She looked at her watch. “But it probably won’t be necessary, and if we hurry we can put the whole thing through before breakfast. But must you go down the cliff – and the awkward way?”
    Sally had spoken with sudden unconcealed anxiety, and this was so overwhelming to him that he had to make an effort to answer calmly. “I think it’s my best plan. I doubt if that fellow saw me a few minutes ago, and his suspicions about Dinwiddie may at present be quite vague. But if he did see me leaving the place he would know at once that he was really hot on the scent.”
    “Very well. I’ll get the gun – my own gun – now, and go straight up the garden with it. You needn’t waste time after that. Get over the wall and down the cliff as soon as you see me. And I’ll stick on the job until I know that you’re back on it.”
    He watched her go. She seemed to draw all his vigilance and all his thought after her, so that for the moment the whole violent and actual adventure into which he had been precipitated appeared shadowy and insubstantial when set beside the mere unfulfilled intention which must be the only memorial of his relation with her. And if he had now a little involved her in the doubtful drama of John Day, it was only partly because the momentary logic of the affair had appeared to require it. He was unwilling to let Sally go, and rather than do so he had brought her into the affair as if she was a boy ready for an escapade. It could hardly be maintained that he had