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“Yes,” said Fran, enjoying their attention. “I decided to go to the Kismet instead.”

“At lunchtime?” Katie queried, trying to visualise the exotic Eastern palace setting in sunlight instead of the subdued electric lamps, and then she remembered, there were no windows in the restaurant; it must be ventilated by an air-conditioning system.

“It’s open in the daytime as well,” said Jamie, sensing her curiosity. “At least from about eleven-thirty onwards for lunches, then I believe it closes until the evening rush.”

“They put on a rather good lunch,” said Fran, “but a bit expensive.”

“Serves you right,” Jamie said unsympathetically. “That’s not the sort of place girls frequent when alone.”

“I wasn’t alone all the time.” Fran dropped her bombshell with remarkable aplomb, and Jamie stared at her.

“No?” he said slowly. “And just who, may I ask, was your escort?”

“You’ll never guess,” she said, eyeing them both a little uncertainly, “and you’ll probably be angry when I tell you. Kuran Bey, the owner of the place.”

“You little idiot!” Jamie was angry, and Katie suspected that he disliked the man as much as she did herself. Fran bit her lip as he turned his blazing, blue eyes on her. “Bey’s not the sort of man a girl like you can handle. For heaven’s sake, Fran, what on earth got into you?”

“I don’t quite know,” she said thoughtfully, “but I saw him come into the restaurant, smiling at this one and that one, so I thought he might as well smile at me. I dropped my table napkin and he picked it up; it was all rather old-fashioned somehow.”

“And what happened?” asked Katie, curious in spite of her misgivings.

“He
is
rather charming, Katie, not a bit sleek as you said—well, not too bad anyway, perhaps a bit flowery.” Fran appealed for Katie’s support. “And it was all very polite. He said he had seen me in the casino once or twice lately and he thought that I had been with one of the Mr. Millers.” She looked at Jamie. “He wasn’t sure which one, but of course the two gentlemen were familiar to him, the family being quite well known locally. Well,” Fran looked dubious, “I swallowed that with a pinch of salt, but at least he admitted that he knew John by sight, and as John invariably takes Eleanor he must admit to knowing her too.”

“So you mentioned Eleanor?” said Jamie. “And what result did that have?”

“He said that he knew Miss Barlow by sight, of course,” Fran mimicked the rather ingratiating tone of the man. “She was a famous model, so of course everyone knew her, and as she was so frequently in the company of Mr. Miller he had assumed that there was—” Fran waved her hands in an expressive gesture that Katie had seen Bey use, “he assumed there was more than a casual acquaintance between them, forgive him if the assumption was incorrect.”

“And what did you say to that?” Katie asked, her grey eyes wide, fearing the worst of the answer.

“I said he was and there wasn’t,” Fran told them a little confusingly, “and since I was John’s cousin I was in a position to know. That surprised him, I could tell, so I struck while the iron was hot. After all, he was telling lies about not knowing Eleanor, except by sight, so I thought I’d let him know that he didn’t know it all.”

“What did you tell him?” Jamie asked quietly.

Fran glanced from one to the other of them warily as if she feared one of them might attack her without warning. “Only that John and Eleanor were no more than friends who liked gambling, and that John’s affections were elsewhere; a friend of mine I said, but mentioned no name, so he won’t know who it is.”

“Oh, Fran! Fran!” Katie put her face in her hands, the dark cloud of her hair falling forward to cover her hands, and Jamie shook his head despairingly.

“Fran, you realise what will happen, don’t you?” he asked her. “It won’t take Eleanor five minutes to realise that you were referring to Katie, and John was adamant about her not hearing anything like that. He’ll really bring a storm down on your head when he finds out.”

“I don’t care,” Fran said obstinately. “I don’t think he’ll mind as much as he says he will.”

“But whether he will or not,” Jamie pointed out with unusual seriousness, “you’ve done exactly what he asked you not to do.” He frowned worriedly. “There
is
something going on, I think, but whatever it is I don’t want you mixed up in it, and if John doesn’t want Eleanor to know about Katie he must have had a good reason for it. It doesn’t matter what the reason is, it’s John’s affair.” He looked at Katie, sitting still and quiet, her grey eyes dark with worry. “And what about Katie, did you stop to think how she feels about it?”

“No.” Fran appealed to them both. “I’m sorry, it just sort of slipped out. I didn’t mean to upset you, Katie.”

“You haven’t,” Katie said untruthfully, “but John will be so angry I’d hate to be in your shoes when he comes back.”

“Oh, dear!” Fran was near to tears, her former delight at her adventure banished in the realisation of what she had done. “I don’t know what he’ll say if he finds out.”

Jamie put a comforting arm round her shoulders. “And he will,” he said with certainty. “If Bey is as friendly as you say he is with Eleanor he’s bound to tell her the first chance he gets.”

“But why did he deny knowing her ? He could have admitted that much without getting too involved, but he said he only knew her by sight, and Katie and I
know
that’s not true.”

“Fran! Leave it,” Jamie ordered as sharply as his brother would have done. “No more about Bey and Eleanor or you’ll bring me down on your head as well as John.”

“There was one thing I learned; no, it’s not about Eleanor,” she defended hastily as he would have protested. “At least not directly; but after lunch as I was leaving the Kismet I noticed Kuran Bey talking to another man behind that heavy red curtain that screens the cloakroom from the hall. They didn’t see me,” she added.

“I hope not," Jamie said earnestly. “Go on, infant, tell us the worst.”

“I didn't hear much,” she confessed, “because I wasn’t trying to listen. Really,” as Jamie made a grimace of doubt. “Only something about Tuesday night at twelve o’clock.”

“Nothing very exciting,” said Jamie.

“Wait,” said Fran, “The other man said ‘Where this time?’ and Kuran Bey said ‘Barlow’s landing’.”

Katie’s heart sank as she realised that nothing short of a miracle or Jamie’s new-found sense of responsibility could stop the two of them being at Barlow’s landing, on or near die sand dunes on Tuesday night. As she tried desperately to anticipate the suggestion that she thought inevitable, she was aware of Sir Janus standing in the doorway from the terrace, his white head silvery in the sun.

“I’m glad you’re back with us, Fran,” he told his granddaughter with something less than his usual warmth in the greeting. “And just what have you been doing all this time?”

With certain omissions Fran told him, and Katie saw the old man’s face crease worriedly as she finished. “That last statement you were making as I came in,” he said. “What was that about?”

Fran repeated the snatch of conversation she had overheard. “That’s all,” she said. “I didn’t hear any more; but it’s rather significant, isn’t it, Janus?”

“Not significant enough to send you and Jamie careering off into the night to Barlow’s landing,” Sir Janus said. “You have been extremely foolhardy, Fran, and taken unnecessary chances in what could be a serious matter.”

“You think there is something going on, then?” Fran asked eagerly.

“Perhaps,” Sir Janus glanced at Katie. “But if there is, it is for us to inform the proper authorities, not take action ourselves.”

“Oh.” Fran’s obvious disappointment would have been comical to Katie had she not been stunned by the old man’s words about the authorities. She could not believe that he would deliberately inform the police, knowing that it would probably mean prison for his grandson, but the stem unrelenting features gave her no reassurance and her heart sank dismally as she looked at him.

“Oh, well,” Fran shrugged resignedly, “if you say so, Janus, but do tell them everything, won’t you?”

“I’ll tell them everything you’ve told me,” Sir Janus promised. “Now please leave the matter in my hands and do no more about it, either of you.” They accepted the old man’s ruling without question as they usually did, and Katie felt a sudden surge of hope.”

“What about forgetting our troubles in a swim?” Jamie suggested. “We can take
Sea Mist
along to St Miram and cool off in the water.”

“Marvellous!” Fran enthused. “You’ll come, won’t you, Katie?”

Katie put a hand to her forehead and shook her head. “I won’t if you don’t mind, Fran,” she said, her grey eyes still worried. “I’ve rather a headache, so I think I’ll go home and take things easy for a while.”

“Poor old love,” Fran sympathised as she walked down to the boat with them, and waved them off, a little enviously, she admitted.

She turned back to the road across the quay and hesitated, then with more determined steps went back to Coral House.

Sir Janus, using the telephone in the hall, saw her approaching and called her in. She tried not to listen, but since it became obvious that it was John to whom he was talking, her pretence was short-lived.

The conversation was in its last stages and Katie heard him say, “Katie is here with me now, and she’s worried, very worried, John,” his eyes twinkled at her briefly. “I think she is afraid I’m going to have you imprisoned for life.” He listened for a second or two before turning and smiling at her encouragingly. “Yes, I know you will,” he said, “but be careful, John, please. Goodbye.”

“You won’t tell the police, will you, Sir Janus?” Katie turned anxious eyes up to him as he urged her into the lounge. “You can’t, not with John involved.”

“Don’t worry, Katie,” he sat beside her, taking her hands, trying to coax a smile from her. “It will be all right. John knows what he’s doing, I can promise you that.”

“And he won’t go to prison?” she asked.

“He won’t go to prison,” the old man promised. “Does that make you feel any happier?”

“Yes,” she said, and managed a smile that did not quite reach her grey eyes.

ON Tuesday morning John had not returned from London and Katie felt a certain amount of relief; if he was not here in Mare Green he could not be involved in whatever it was that Kuran Bey had planned for that night at Barlow’s landing. Aunt Cora once or twice looked at her as if she suspected that there was something on her mind, but she kept discreetly quiet as she usually did, and for that Katie was grateful. She hated lying to Aunt Cora, disliked even telling small lies, but she had promised John and she could not go back on her word to him. Besides, she had no guarantee that the old lady would take her own lenient view of smuggling, in fact it was quite within the bounds of possibility that she would be scandalised at any suggestion of anything illegal and inform the police herself.

Fran talked of little else during the day except the events that were to take place at Barlow’s landing— that is, of course, if she had not made a mistake in what she had overheard. Katie suspected that it was only Jamie’s insistence that they left it to Sir Janus that kept Fran from being there herself to see ‘the fun’, as she termed it. She was far more amenable to Jamie’s suggestions now that their relationship had changed and had it not been for her anxiety to be around if Sir Janus heard from John, Katie would have left them to themselves.

The old man, she thought, knew why she was there and he smiled at her understandingly once or twice. He had showed no signs of being displeased about his grandchildren and their new-found happiness, in fact he watched them with a satisfied smile that gave his approval. “You don’t mind about them?” Katie asked him while they watched Fran and Jamie play an energetic game of tennis, and the old man shook his head.

“I’ve seen it happening for a long while,” he said. “They have always been very close and I think Jamie has known for some time that he was falling in love with Fran, only the fact that they feared I or someone else in the family might object has kept him quiet for so long.” He smiled at her. “He made up for it by having as many pretty girls as he could find to take out and about, but he always, in the end, came back to Fran, and I think Fran knew he would.”

“He mentioned it to me once,” Katie confessed, “and I told him that I didn’t think there was any harm in just one generation intermarrying. It’s done quite often and as long as there’s nothing hereditary that they can pass on, I don’t see that it matters.”

Sir Janus looked at her with raised eyebrows. “You told him that, did you?” She nodded. “I see, so having discovered that someone outside the family approved, he decided to speak to Fran at last.”

Katie laughed softly, watching the two of them run about the tennis court like children, both of them so beautifully tanned and with their fair heads and blue eyes they could have been twins. “I don’t think I had much influence at all,” she said. “It was when Fran was so long gone into Sea Bar that finally sealed it for Jamie; he was so relieved to have her back safely that he couldn’t help letting her know how he felt about her.”

He nodded. “Well, it seems to have given Jamie a new sense of responsibility. At one time he would have found some way of defying me to go careering off to Barlow’s landing tonight, now I believe it’s he who is keeping Fran out of trouble.” The mention of Barlow’s landing reminded Katie again of John.

“Will John be here tonight?” she asked, voicing her fears, and the old man patted her hand, smiling reassuringly.

“He may,” he admitted cautiously. “But you’ve no need to worry about John, my dear. He’ll be all right, I can promise you that.”

“I hope so,” Katie whispered fervently, her fingers restless in her lap. “I’m so afraid that something may go wrong; I do wish Fran hadn’t heard that snatch of conversation and told me about it.” She frowned her puzzlement as a new thought occurred to her and her grey eyes were curious when she looked at Sir Janus. “Why did you have to tell John about it?” she asked. “If he’s one of them, surely he would have known about it, wouldn’t he, Sir Janus?”