ir Ommaney, with a laugh, as he followed
this glance; "and with the cabins of half-a-dozen Sea Lords to choose
between. In point of fact, our department has no boat at Plymouth
capable of performing the passage comfortably: so, my business being
partly theirs, I applied to the Admiralty, and the Admiralty placed
their yacht at my disposal."

The Commandant did not understand; or perhaps he had not been listening
intently. By tacit consent, the pair bent their steps towards the slope
of Garrison Hill.

"Also," Sir Ommaney resumed, "the Admiral at Plymouth added a word of
advice, to take advantage of this spell of weather and make the passage
at once. No doubt he had a professional distrust of a soldier's
stomach. Still, he meant it kindly. And that accounts for my arriving
some days ahead of scheduled time, and dropping into the midst of this
disquieting business. What's the meaning of it, think you?"

"The meaning of it?" echoed the Commandant.

"You don't doubt the man fell over the cliffs and killed himself?"

The Commandant shook his head. "I don't doubt his having met with an
accident," he answered. "But I have some hope of finding him yet, and
of finding him alive."

"To me, that doesn't seem likely.... But I want to tell you at once
that my business can wait. I repeat, I am ahead of time. I can employ
myself on board, or get out the steam-launch and explore the Islands;
or again (if you will use me), I will gladly make one of a search
party."

The Commandant thanked him. "But I have no particular business, at any
rate for an hour or two. The boats have gone, and I leave it to Mr.
Rogers to direct the search, now that we have laid down the plan of it.
On these occasions, one captain is always better than two." Sir Ommaney
might talk easily of postponing this or that; but the Commandant, poor
man, craved to get the worst over and learn his fate.

"By the bye, Vigoureux--if you'll not mind my saying so--you handled
that Council of yours admirably."

The Commandant flushed. "They are old friends of mine, Sir Ommaney."

"Why, and so am I an old friend; at least, as I supposed. Cannot you
manage to drop the prefix?... Very well.... And now, if you have
nothing better to do, take me over the old fortifications."

They climbed the hill together to the Garrison gate, and thence,
bearing away to the left, started to make the round of the batteries.
He flinched as they came to the first--the King George's Batter