against their slender craft. And all about them rose the
musical whisper, the liquid murmur of waters gently lapping the rocks
or swelling against the sides of boats. At times the breeze could be
heard sighing softly through the rigging of near-by yachts. It was
weird and uncanny.

And the sensations that came of it were strange and powerful. In the
forest the young scouts had lain in wait for enemies, had hidden in the
darkness to trap desperate foes, had watched, with bated breath and
pounding hearts, for shadowy forms to appear. They were not
unaccustomed to danger and the suspense of an ambush. But in the
forest they had solid ground beneath their feet. Trees and other
tangible objects were all about them. But here everything seemed
unreal, almost ghostly. The darkness of the forest was no blacker than
the night here in the open. And yet there was no shady covering of
leaves to shut out the light--only a strange, weird, unearthly canopy
of mist. In the forest innumerable tree trunks offered concealment to
approaching enemies; yet here in the open with nothing tangible to
obstruct the vision, it was almost impossible to see anything, strain
the eyes as one might.

A feeling of awe came over the young scouts, and both were conscious of
a creepy sensation. So unreal appeared their surroundings that it
seemed as though anything coming out of the mist would be kin to it,
unreal and ghostly. So they sat in the bottom of the boat, only the
tops of their heads showing above the low gunwale, as they waited in
breathless silence, peering through the night, listening with cocked
ear, and straining forward to catch every slightest sound.

Under the covered bow of the boat, the driver flashed his torch for a
second on the face of his watch.

"Eleven forty-five," he muttered. "There ought to be something doing
soon."

A minute passed. The silence was unbroken. Another minute went by.
The sighing of the wind in near-by riggings was the only audible sound.
Again a minute passed. No sound of boat or boatmen broke the gloomy
silence. Once more the pilot peeped stealthily at his watch and gave a
muttered exclamation. A feeling of uneasiness took possession of the
watchers. They stirred nervously. Dark fears crept into their minds.
Had something happened to alter the plans of the spies? Had Sanders
sent another wireless message to his comrades, naming another
meeting-place? Henry's heart almost stopped bea