xclaimed:

"Here is one of the spots which the Germans have chosen for landing.
Look at it! Everything is in favour of a hostile force. That range of
hills we've just come over at the back would be occupied by the landing
force at once, and thus they would command the whole country from
Kelling, which you see to the right, away south beyond Cromer, down to
Baxton beyond Mundesley."

With my back to the long rolling breakers I gazed away landward at the
long line of hills stretching in each direction. It was, indeed, an
ideal spot for an enemy to effect a landing, with deep water right up to
the land.

"Because of the confidence we have in our fleet and our wonderful
diplomacy this place is no longer watched," Raymond remarked, standing
beside me muffled in his motor-coat, for the wind was intensely cold.
"Yet in days gone by, by reason of the facilities which nature has
provided for the landing of hostile forces, it was carefully guarded
whenever the invasion of England was believed to be imminent."

After we had strolled some distance along the beach, where the
grey-green waters were breaking into foam, my friend suddenly halted
and, taking a piece of paper from his pocket, stood with his back to the
sea and made a sketch of the irregular contour of the blue hills facing
him from the coastguard at Salthouse on the right to the rising ground
behind Upper Sheringham on the left--the positions which are to be first
occupied by the enemy in their attack upon us.

He made no explanation of the reason of his action, therefore I stood by
watching in silence.

At last we returned to the car and drove inland to Weybourne village, a
sleepy old-world little place from which the sea has receded. As we
turned into the main road he ordered the man to pull up, and,
descending, looked about him, first at the lines of telegraph-wire
running beside the road, and then we both strolled through the village.
My companion's eyes were everywhere. He appeared to be making mental
notes of every feature of the obscure little place.

Just as we were returning to the car he suddenly halted, saying:

"You go on. A thought has just occurred to me." And, turning, he walked
back to the small village post office situated next door to an inn, and
was absent for nearly a quarter of an hour.

"As I suspected!" he remarked beneath his breath as he rejoined me.
"That inn is kept by a German!"

Then we travelled along to Cley-next-the-Sea, and th