‘Not quite that, I think,’ Dikon rejoined and he related the story of Mr Falls and his pipe. To this recital they listened with ill-concealed impatience; indeed it had the effect of restoring Dr Ackrington to his customary form. ‘Damn and blast that cub of yours, Edward,’ he shouted. ‘What the devil does he mean by concocting these fables and broadcasting them in every quarter but the right one? He knew perfectly well that I regarded Questing’s visits to the Peak with the gravest suspicion, he goes haring off by himself, picks up what may prove to be vital information, and tells me nothing whatever about it. In the meantime a ship goes down and an agent from whom we should have got valuable information goes and gets lost in a mud pot. Of all the blasted, self-sufficient young popinjays…’ He broke off and glared at Dikon. ‘As a partner in this conspiracy of silence, perhaps you will be good enough to offer an explanation.’

Dikon was in a quandary. Though he had refused to be bound to secrecy by Simon he felt that he had betrayed a trust. To tell Dr Ackrington that he had urged a consultation and that Simon had refused it would be to present himself as an insufferable prig. He said he understood that Simon had every intention of going to the police with his story. Far from pacifying Dr Ackrington this statement had the effect of still further inflaming him, and Dikon’s assurances that so far as he knew Simon had not yet consulted an authority did little to calm him.

The Colonel bit his moustache and apologized to his brother-in-law for Simon’s behaviour. Dikon attempted to lead the conversation back to Mr Falls and was instantly snubbed for his pains.

‘Sheer twaddle and moonshine,’ Dr Ackrington fumed. ‘The young ass had his head full of this precious signal and no doubt heard it in everything. What was it?’ he demanded. Fortunately Dikon remembered the signal and repeated it.

‘Makes no sense in Morse,’ said the Colonel unhappily. ‘Four t’s, four 5’s, a t, a 1 and an s. Ridiculous, you know, that sort of thing.’

‘My good Edward, I don’t for an instant doubt the significance of this signal as flashed from the Peak. Do you imagine that Questing would communicate in intelligent Morse code to an enemy raider: “Ship sails tomorrow night kindly sink and oblige yours Questing”?’ He gave an unpleasant bark of laughter. ‘It’s this tarradiddle about Falls and his pipe that I totally discredit. The man’s full of nervous mannerisms. I’ve observed him. He’s forever fiddling with his pipe. And will you be good enough to tell me, Mr Bell, how one distinguishes between a long and a short tap? Pah!’

Dikon thought this over. ‘By the intervals between the taps?’ he suggested timidly.

‘Indeed? Would Simon be able, without warning, so to distinguish?’