What do you mean? You don't surely mean to say you're going to leave us here?'
The young man raised his cap with perfect politeness, while Mrs. Granton smiled, nodded, and kissed her pretty hand to us. 'Yes,' he answered; 'for the present. We retire from the game. The fact of it is, it's a trifle too thin: this is a coup manqué.'
'A what?' Charles exclaimed, perspiring visibly.
'A coup manqué,' the young man replied, with a compassionate smile. 'A failure, don't you know; a bad shot; a fiasco. I learn from my scouts that you sent a telegram by special messenger to Lord Craig-Ellachie this morning. That shows you suspect me. Now, it is a principle of my system never to go on for one move with a game when I find myself suspected. The slightest symptom of distrust, and—I back out immediately. My plans can only be worked to satisfaction when there is perfect confidence on the part of my patient. It is a well-known rule of the medical profession. I never try to bleed a man who struggles. So now we're off. Ta-ta! Good luck to you!'
He was not much more than twenty yards away, and could talk to us quite easily. But the water was deep; the islet rose sheer from I'm sure I don't know how many fathoms of sea; and we could neither of us swim. Charles stretched out his arms imploringly. 'For Heaven's sake,' he cried, 'don't tell me you really mean to leave us here.'
