ummed for a moment upon the table with his fingers. All
the time the young man had been speaking, his eyes had been studying his
face. He turned now once more to his map.

"It was my idea," he said, "to hire a steam trawler from Yarmouth. If I
do so, you can, if you wish, accompany me so far as the port at which we
may land in Holland. On the other hand, to be perfectly frank with you,
I should prefer to go alone. There will be, no doubt, a certain amount
of risk in crossing to-night. My own business is of importance. A golf
tournament, however, is scarcely worth risking your life for, is it?"

"Oh, I don't know about that!" the young man replied grimly. "I fancy
I should rather like it. Let's see whether we can get on to Norwich,
anyhow, shall we? We may find that there are bridges down on that line."

They relapsed once more into silence. Presently the guard reappeared.

"Instructions to take you on to Yarmouth, if possible, sir," he
announced, "and to collect the mileage at our destination."

"That will be quite satisfactory," Mr. Dunster agreed. "Let us be off,
then, as soon as possible." Presently they crawled on. They passed the
boat train in Ipswich Station, where they stayed for a few moments.
Mr. Dunster bought wine and sandwiches, and his companion followed his
example. Then they continued their journey. An hour or more passed; the
storm showed no signs of abatement. Their speed now rarely exceeded ten
or fifteen miles an hour. Mr. Dunster smoked all the time, occasionally
rubbing the window-pane and trying to look out. Gerald Fentolin slept
fitfully.

"Have you any idea where we are?" Mr. Dunster asked once.

The boy cautiously let down the window a little way. With the noise of
the storm came another sound, to which he listened for a moment with
puzzled face: a dull, rumbling sound like the falling of water. He
closed the window, breathless.

"I don't think we are far from Norwich. We passed Forncett, anyhow, some
time ago."

"Still raining?"

"In torrents! I can't see a yard ahead of me. I bet we get some floods
after this. I expect they are out now, if one could only see."

They crept on. Suddenly, above the storm, they heard what sounded at
first like the booming of a gun, and then a shrill whistle from some
distance ahead. They felt the jerk as their brakes were hastily applied,
the swaying of the little train, and then the crunching of earth beneath
them, the roar of escaping steam as their