g shafts of humour floated up from the sternsheets; Thorogood
stood at the top of the gangway and waved adieu with his telescope as
the boat shoved off and circled round the stern towards the
landing-place. For a moment he stood looking after the smiling faces
and waving caps and then turned inboard with a sigh.

"Liberty men present, sir!" The Master-at-Arms and Sergeant-Major made
their reports and Thorogood moved forward, passing briskly down the
lanes of motionless figures and shiny, cheerful countenances.

"Carry on," he said, and acknowledged the salute of the Chief of Police
and the Sergeant of Marines.

The men filed over the side and took their places in the boats waiting
alongside, and as they sheered off from the ship in tow of the launch
and followed in the wake of the distant picket-boat, the closely packed
men suddenly broke into a tempest of cheering.

The Captain was walking up and down the quarterdeck talking to the
Commander. He smiled as the tumult of sound floated across the water.

"I wonder they managed to bottle it up as long as they have," he said.
"Bless 'em! They've earned their drop of leave if ever men did." They
took a few turns in silence. "I hope to get away to-night," continued
the Captain, "if they put us in dock this afternoon. When are you
going for your leave, Hornby?"

The Commander ran his eye over the superstructure and rigging of the
foremast. "Oh, I don't know, sir," he said. "I hadn't thought about
it much.... I think I'll get that new purchase for the fore-derrick
rove to-morrow...."

The colour had gone out of the sunset, and in the pale green sky at the
head of the valley a single star appeared.

With the approach of dusk the noises of the river multiplied; a score
of liquid voices seemed to blend into the sleepy murmur of sounds that
babbled drowsily among the rocks and boulders, and was swallowed
beneath the overhanging branches of the trees.

The India-rubber Man moved quietly down stream, scarcely
distinguishable from the gathering shadows by the riverside; he carried
a light fly-rod, and once or twice he stopped, puffing the briar pipe
between his teeth, to stare intently at the olive-hued water eddying
past.

"Coo-ee!"

A faint call floated up the valley, clear and musical above the voices
of the stream. The India-rubber Man raised his head abruptly and a
little smile flitted across his face. Then he raised his hand to his
mouth and sent the an