“That is my share,” he said.  “Down in the other workshop my partners are hard at it.  They, too, have met with success.  You must tell your men, Captain Chalmers, never to relax their vigil.  This place must be watched by night and by day.  My last invention was a great step forward, but this is absolute success.  For the next few months this is the most precious spot in Europe.”

“It isn’t Captain Chalmers, father,” Isabel interrupted.

Sir Meyville seemed suddenly to become still.  He looked fixedly at Granet.

“Who are you, then?” he demanded.  “Who are you, sir?”

“I am Captain Granet of the Royal Fusiliers, back from the Front, wounded,” Granet replied.  “I can assure you that I am a perfectly trustworthy person.”

“But I don’t understand,” Sir Meyville said sharply.  “What are you doing here?”

“I came to call upon your daughter,” Granet explained.  “I had the pleasure of meeting her at lunch at Lady Anselman’s the other day.  We have been playing golf together at Brancaster.”

Sir Meyville began to mumble to himself as he pushed them into the boat.

“My fault,” he muttered,—­“my fault.  Captain Granet, I thought that my daughter knew my wishes.  I am not at present in a position to receive guests or visitors of any description.  You will pardon my apparent inhospitality.  I shall ask you, sir, to kindly forget this visit and to keep away from here for the present.”

“I shall obey your wishes, of course, sir,” Granet promised.  “I can assure you that I am quite a harmless person, though.”

“I do not doubt it, sir,” Sir Meyville replied, “but it is the harmless people of the world who do the most mischief.  An idle word here or there and great secrets are given away.  If you will allow me, I will show you a quicker way down the avenue, without going to the house.”

Granet shrugged his shoulders.

“Just as you will, sir,” he assented.

“You can go in, Isabel,” her father directed curtly.  “I will see Captain Granet off.”

She obeyed and took leave of her guest with a little shrug of the shoulders.  Sir Meyville took Granet’s arm and led him down the avenue.

“Captain Granet,” he said gravely, “I am an indiscreet person and I have an indiscreet daughter.  Bearing in mind your profession, I may speak to you as man to man.  Keep what you have seen absolutely secret.  Put a seal upon your memory.  Go back to Brancaster and don’t even look again in this direction.  The soldiers round this place have orders not to stand on ceremony with any one, and by to-night I believe we are to have an escort of Marines here as well.  What you have seen is for the good of the country.”

“I congratulate you heartily, sir,” Granet replied, shaking hands.  “Of course I’ll keep away, if I must.  I hope when this is all over, though, you will allow me to come and renew my acquaintance with your daughter.”