At the outskirts of the darkened village he came to a row of grey lime-washed cottages in front of which a tall flagstaff loomed up against the misty starlight.
"Halt!" exclaimed a hoarse voice peremptorily.
Peter halted. Confronting him was a greatcoated, gaitered, bearded man in seaman's uniform.
"'Gainst orders to use this path after dark," quoth the coastguardsman. "What's your name? And what are you doing running like this at this time o' night?"
"How many men have you at the station?" asked Barcroft breathlessly.
"Eh? What do you want this information for?" demanded the man suspiciously. "You'd best come along with me an' give no trouble. Strikes me there's something that ain't proper jonnick."
Barcroft preceded the seaman up the shingled path leading to the watch house.
"Look
