"Don't you see that if he is just found here with his head and shoulders in the creek, and nothing is known about him, they will take it that he has been washed up by the sea in the storm last night?
But if it is known that he came from the land, that he was seen in the village asking for me--then there will be many things said." "I don't see as it matters," she answered, puzzled.

"He didn't come, and you don't know anything about him.

But, of course, if you want me to say nothing--" She paused.

I clutched her arm.
"Miss Moyat," I said, "I have strong reasons for not wishing to be brought into this." "All right," she said, dropping her voice.

"I will do--as you ask." There was an absurd meaning in her little side-glance, which at another time would have put me on my guard.