e
of the Volunteer Lieutenant. "Yes," he replied, "but it's devilish
dark--I can't----"

"I'm Armitage," said the other. Thorogood laughed. "Great Scott!" he
exclaimed. "Were you in the train? I didn't see you before----"

"Neither did I," was the reply, "but I heard your voice and recognised
it. How is Sir William?"

"Uncle Bill? Oh, he's all right. Hard at work on some comic invention
of his, as usual."

The other nodded. "Well, give him my love when you write, and tell him
I've struck the type of man he wants for that experiment of his. I'll
write to him, though. Now I must go and find my little party of
braves--bringing an armed guard back to our base. Good-bye and good
luck to you."

They shook hands, and the Volunteer half turned away. An afterthought
appeared to strike him, however, and he stopped.

"By the way," he added, "how's Miss Cecily? Well, I hope?"

"She's all right, thanks," was the reply. "I'll tell her I've seen
you."

"Will you? Yes, thank you. And will you say I--I am looking forward
to seeing her again next time I come South?"

The speaker moved away into the darkness.

At that moment appeared Mouldy Jakes, panting behind a barrow. "Who's
that old bird?" he queried.

"Another of 'em," replied Thorogood.

"'Nother of what?"

"Cecily's hopeless attachments. He's a pal of Uncle Bill's, and as
rich as Croesus. Amateur deep sea yachtsman before the war. He's
awfully gone on Cecily."

"'Counts for him hanging round your neck, I s'pose," commented the
student of human nature. "Sort of 'dweller-near-the-rose' business.
Heave that suit-case over--unless you can find any more of your
cousin's admirers sculling about the country. P'raps they'll load this
truck for us and shove it to the boat. Ah, here's Podgie!"

A moment later the King's Messenger joined the group.

"Will you all come and have supper with me at the hotel?" he said.
"It's the last meal you'll get on terra firma for some time to come.
I've got a car waiting outside."

Mouldy Jakes heaved the last of the bags on to the hand-cart and
enlisted the services of a superannuated porter drifting past in the
darkness. The King's Messenger had slipped his arm inside Thorogood's,
and the two moved on towards the barrier.

"Has your wife got a young brother?" asked Mouldy Jakes abruptly as he
and the India-rubber Man followed in the wake of the porter and the
barrow.

"Yes," replied Standish. "A lad cal