"By gad!" he exclaimed softly. "Then, if that is so, this is merely
another of Chatfield's games. You don't believe him?"
"I would think myself within approachable distance of lunacy if I
believed a word that Peter Chatfield said," she answered calmly. "Of
course, he is playing a game of his own all through. He shall have his
pension--if I have the power to give it--but believe him--oh, no!"
"Let's follow them," said Copplestone. "Something's going to happen--if
that is the _Pike_."
"Look there, then," exclaimed Audrey as they began to descend the cliff.
"Chatfield's already uneasy."
She pointed to the beach below, where Chatfield, now fully overcoated and
shawled again, had mounted a ridge of rock, and while gazing intently at
the vessel, was exchanging remarks with Vickers, who had evidently said
something which had alarmed him. They caught Chatfield's excited
ejaculations as they hurried over the sand.
"Don't say that, Mr. Vickers!" he was saying imploringly. "For God's
sake, Mr. Vickers, don't suggest them there sort of thoughts. You make me
feel right down poorly, Mr. Vickers, to say such! It's worse than a bad
dream, Mr. Vickers--no, sir, no, surely you're mistaken!"
"Bet you a fiver to a halfpenny it's the _Pike_," retorted Vickers. "I
know her lines. Besides she's heading straight here. Copplestone!" he
cried, turning to the advancing couple.
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