emen. She
will be out of it now,--out and never likely to return; the news of
that miscarried message would warn her that something was wrong,
and she would be 'up and out of it' like a darting swallow. The
question is, how and when did she get out? Let's have in the guard
and see."

The sentries were brought in one after the other and questioned. At
no time since they were first put on guard, they declared--at _no
time_, either by day or by night--had any living creature entered
or left the house up to now, except the Admiral Superintendent, his
secretary, the auditor, and the nurse who had been summoned to look
after the stricken girl. To that they one and all were willing to
take solemn oath.

There is an old French proverb which says: "He that protests too much
leads to the truth in spite of himself." It was the last man to be
called who did this.

"No, sir, nobody passed, either in or out, I'll take my dying oath
to that," asserted he, his feelings riled up by the thought that this
constant questioning of his statement was a slur upon his devotion
to his duty. "There aren't nobody going to hint as I'm a slacker as
don't know what he's a-doing of, or a blessed mug that don't obey
orders; no, sir--no fear! Sir Charles's orders was, 'Nobody in or
out' and nobody in or out it was; my hat! yuss! Why, sir"--turning
to the dock master--"you must 'a' known; he must 'a' told you. I
wouldn't allow even young Master Reggie in last night when he came
a-pleading to be let in to get the school books he'd left behind."

"When he _what_?" almost roared the dock master, fairly jumping.
"Good lord, Marshall, have you gone off your head? Do you mean to
claim that you saw my boy here--last night?"

"Certainly, sir. Just after that awful clap of thunder it was--say
about eight or ten minutes after; and what with that and the darkness
and the way the wind was howling, I never see nor heard nothing
of him coming till I got to the door, and there he was--in them
light-coloured knickers and the pulled-down wideawake hat I'd seen
him wear dozens of times--with his coat collar turned up and a
drippin' umbrella over his head, making like he was going up the
steps to try and get in. 'Who's there?' as I sings to him, though I
needn't, for the little light was streaking out through the windows
showed me what he was wearing and who it was well enough. 'It's
me--Master Reggie, Marshall,' he says. 'I've come to get my school
books. I left '