Mr. Tredgold said that no doubt that was the case sometimes, and was only recalled to the true position of affairs by the hungry captain marching up to the beef and carving for himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, with a laugh.  “I was thinking of something else.  I wonder whether you would let me use the crow’s-nest for a day or two?  There’s a place we have got on our hands, a mile or two out, and I want to keep my eye on it.”

The captain, his good humour quite restored, preserved his gravity with an effort.  “I don’t see that she could object to that,” he said, slowly.  “It’s a matter of business, as you might say.”

“Of course, I could go straight round to the back without troubling you,” resumed Mr. Tredgold.  “It’s so awkward not to be able to see you when I want to.”

Captain Bowers ventured a sympathetic wink.  “It’s awkward not to be able to see anybody when you want to,” he said, softly.

Two days later Miss Drewitt, peeping cautiously from her bedroom window, saw Mr. Tredgold perched up in the crow’s-nest with the telescope.  It was a cold, frosty day in January, and she smiled agreeably as she hurried downstairs to the fire and tried to imagine the temperature up aloft.

Stern in his attention to duty, Mr. Tredgold climbed day after day to his post of observation and kept a bored but whimsical eye on a deserted cowhouse three miles off.  On the fourth day the captain was out, and Miss Drewitt, after a casual peep from the kitchen window, shrugged her shoulders and returned to the sitting-room.

“Mr. Tredgold must be very cold up there, Miss,” said Mr. Tasker, respectfully, as he brought in the tea.  “He keeps slapping his chest and blowing on his fingers to keep ’imself warm.”

Miss Drewitt said “Oh!” and, drawing the little table up to her easy-chair, put down her book and poured herself out a cup of tea.  She had just arranged it to her taste-two lumps of sugar and a liberal allowance of cream—­when a faint rap sounded on the front door.

“Come in!” she said, taking her feet from the fender and facing about.

The door opened and revealed to her indignant gaze the figure of Mr. Tredgold.  His ears and nose were of a brilliant red and his eyes were watering with the cold.  She eyed him inquiringly.

“Good afternoon,” he said, bowing.

Miss Drewitt returned the greeting.

“Isn’t Captain Bowers in?” said Mr. Tredgold, with a shade of disappointment in his voice as he glanced around.

“No,” said the girl.

Mr. Tredgold hesitated.  “I was going to ask him to give me a cup of tea,” he said, with a shiver.  “I’m half frozen, and I’m afraid that I have a taken a chill.”

[Illustration:  “‘I was going to ask him to give me a cup of tea,’ he said.”]

Miss Drewitt nearly dropped her tea-cup in surprise at his audacity.  He was certainly very cold, and she noticed a little blue mixed with the red of his nose.  She looked round the cosy room and then at the open door, which was causing a bitter draught.