that Commander Bernstorff had gone on a little scouting expedition.

For half an hour Lord Hastings and Frank rowed along without incident
until they could see a few dull lights in the distant town of Dover.

"Seems to me there is a terrible lack of vigilance hereabouts," declared
Frank.

"It does look that way," Lord Hastings admitted. "However----"

There came a sudden interruption--the sound of a shot, and a bullet
whistled overhead.

"Not such a terrible lack of vigilance, either," remarked Lord Hastings.
"I wonder where that shot came from?"

He gazed about but could see nothing in the darkness. Came a second shot
from behind him, and turning, the two saw a little motorboat that had
crept up behind them unnoticed.

"We surrender!" called Lord Hastings, fearing to take a chance that the
next shot would miss.

The motorboat came toward them quickly.

"Who are you?" demanded a figure standing in the bow, and at this
distance Lord Hastings could dimly make out that the man wore a British
uniform.

"Friends," was the reply.

The British officer peered at them sharply, then noticed their German
uniforms.

"Friends, eh," he said; "in those uniforms. Not likely. Climb into my
boat."

Lord Hastings and Frank obeyed without a word, and at a command from the
British officer the motorboat put about and headed shoreward.

"Where are you taking us?" asked Lord Hastings quietly.

"None of your business," was the sharp response.

"So?" said Lord Hastings quietly. "I would advise you to speak more
respectfully. I would not like to report you. I asked you a civil
question and I would appreciate a civil answer."

"Well, I'll tell you, seeing that you are so anxious," replied the
officer. "I am taking you to Admiral Fischer, at Dover, who, most
likely, will know better how to attend to your case than I do."

"Most likely," repeated Lord Hastings. "And how long before we may
expect to see the admiral?"

"About half an hour."

"Good!" And Lord Hastings whispered to Frank: "Plenty of time.
Fortunately I am well acquainted with Admiral Fischer."

CHAPTER XIX.

THE TRAP IS SET.

"Hastings!"

The exclamation was wrung from the lips of the astonished Admiral
Fischer, in command of the naval forces operating about Dover.

"Right you are, Fischer," was Lord Hastings' smiling rejoinder, "though
how you recognized me in all this German toggery is more than I can
explain."

The admiral advanced and wrun