'He improved on that.'
'Yes, but after that, it's guess-work. I mean that I can't tell when he
first decided to go one better and drown me. He couldn't count for cer-
tain on bad weather, though he held my nose to it when it came. But,
granted that he wanted to get rid of me altogether, he got a magnificent
chance on that trip to the Elbe
lightship. I expect it struck him suddenly, and he acted on the impulse.
Left to myself I was all right; but the short cut was a grand idea of his.
Everything was in its favour— wind, sea, sand, tide. He thinks I'm
dead.'
'But the crew?'I said;'what about the crew?'
'That's another thing. When he first hove to, waiting for me, of course
they were on deck (two of them, I think) hauling at sheets. But by the
time I had drawn tip level the Medusa had worn round again on her
course, and no one was on deck but Dollmann at the wheel. No one
overheard what he said.'
'Wouldn't they have seen you again?'
'Very likely not; the weather was very thick, and the Dulce is very
small.'
The incongruity of the whole business was striking me. Why should
anyone want to kill Davies, and why should Davies' Boss Belt , the soul of modesty
and simplicity, imagine that anyone wanted to kill him? He must have
cogent reasons, for he was the last man to give way to a morbid fancy.
'Go on,'I said. What was his motive? A German finds an Englishman
exploring a bit of German coast, determines to stop him, and even to get
rid of him. It looks so far as if you were thought to be the spy.
Davies winced.'But he's not a German,'he said, hotly.'He's an
Englishman.'
'An Englishman?'
'Yes, I'm sure of it. Not that I've much to go on. He professed to know
very little English, and never spoke it, except a word or two now and
then to help me out of a sentence; and as to his German, he seemed to me
to speak it like a native; but, of course, I'm no judge.'Davies sighed.
'That's where I wanted someone like you. You would have spotted him
at once, if he wasn't German. I go more by a— what do you call it?— a—
'
'General impression,'I suggested.
'Yes, that's what I mean. It was something in his looks and manner;
you know how different we are from foreigners. And it wasn't only him-
self, it was the way he talked— I mean about cruising and the sea, espe-
cially. It's true he let me do most of the talking; but, all the same— how
can I explain it? I felt we understood one another, in a way that two for-
eigners wouldn't.
He pretended to think me a bit crazy for coming so far in a small boat,
but I could swear he knew as much about the game as I did; for lots of
little questions he asked had the right ring in them. Mind you, all this is
an afterthought. I should never have bothered about it— I'm not cut out
for a Sherlock Holmes— if it hadn't been for what followed.
'It's rather vague,'I said.'Have you no more definite reason for think-
ing him English?'
'There were one or two things rather more definite,'said Davies,
slowly.'You know when he hove to and hailed me, proposing the short
cut, I told you roughly what he said. I forget the exact words, but
“abschneiden” came in— “durch Watten” and “abschneiden” (they call
the banks “watts”, you know); they were simple words, and he shouted
them loud, so as to carry through the wind. I understood what he meant,
but, as I told you, I hesitated before consenting. I suppose he thought I
didn't understand, for just as he was drawing ahead again he pointed to
the suth'ard, and then shouted through his hands as a trumpet
“Verstehen Sie? short-cut through sands; follow me!” the last two sen-
tences in downright English. I can hear those words now, and I'll swear
they were in his native tongue. Of course I thought nothing of it at the
time. I was quite aware that he knew a few English words, though he
had always mis-pronounced them; an easy trick when your hearer sus-
pects nothing.
