"Miss Deane," he said, "there is no such serious danger as you imagine.
Last time the cuttle caught me napping. He will not do so again. Those
rifles I must have. If it will serve to reassure you, I will go along
the line myself."

He made this concession grudgingly. In very truth, if danger still
lurked in the neighboring sea, he would be far less able to avoid it
whilst clinging to a rope that sagged with his weight, and thus working
a slow progress across the channel, than if he were on his feet and
prepared to make a rush backwards or forwards.

Not until Iris watched him swinging along with vigorous overhead
clutches did this phase of the undertaking occur to her.

"Stop!" she screamed.

He let go and dropped into the water, turning towards her.

"What is the matter now?" he said.

"Go on; do!"

He stood meekly on the further side to listen to her rating.

"You knew all the time that it would be better to walk, yet to please
me you adopted an absurdly difficult method. Why did you do it?"

"You have answered your own question."

"Well, I am very, very angry with you."