ondently.

"Yes, but we can't go back without finding them first," said the doctor
angrily. "Who is to face Sir John Meadows and tell him we have failed
in our duty of protecting his son?"

No one answered, and the silence was broken by the dull thud of another
gun.

"It is of no use, I can't return while it is light, but the summons must
be answered. Here, Lenny, go back and tell Sir John what has happened,
and that we are searching in every direction."

"Me, sir?" cried the man with a look of horror; "I couldn't do it, sir."

"You must. You have been out all day, and must be done up."

"Me, sir! My mate's ever so much worse nor me. Send him."

"G'orn with you," cried the other sailor who had been with them since
the first start; "why I arn't half so done as he is, sir."

"I want you to go, Lenny," said the doctor sternly. "I dare say you
will find another boat waiting. Send the men up to help the search.
But there is no need to send that message, Sir John is sure to have come
himself."

"Mean it, sir? I'm to go?" said Lenny.

"Yes, of course."

"Well, sir, I'd sooner keep on hunting for the poor lad all night than
face Sir John; but if you say I am to do it, why do it I must."

"Go then," said the doctor, "and mind, you are not to attempt to
return."

"Arks your pardon, sir, but it'll be 'bout two hours 'fore I get down to
the boat."

"No, no; not half that time," cried the doctor.

"We've come a long way, sir. What do you say, mates?"

"All two hours," was the reply.

"Yes, sir, you've been so anxious 'bout it you arn't noticed how the
time goes, and as I was going to say, by the time I get down to the boat
it will be black as the inside o' one o' the coal-bunkers."

The doctor stood gazing at the man wildly.

"There won't be no more searching then."

"You're right, you're right," groaned the doctor. "There, stop with us.
Come what may the poor fellows must be found."

_Bang_! went a signal gun again, and the echoes rolled away up the
mountain, growing fainter and fainter, while the lovely grove, full of
dazzling light and darkest shade, resplendent in its beauty, and with
the air fragrant with the freshened odour of leaf and flower, seemed to
Doctor Instow the most horrible solitude to which man had ever been
condemned.

"There they go again," said one of the men, as once more a gun was
fired.

"Forward," cried the doctor, rousing himself from his utter despondency.

"Which