Sabatini said never a word, but his silence seemed somehow eloquent.
Arnold sprang onto the bank and turned once around.

"If he is there, I'll bring him," he promised.

Sabatini waved his hand and Arnold sped across the meadow. He found
the motor car waiting behind the hedge, and he had scarcely stepped
in before they were off. They swung at a great speed along the
narrow lanes, through two villages, and finally came to a standstill
at the end of a long, narrow street. Arnold alighted and found the
boat-builder's yard, with rows of boats for hire, a short distance
along the front. He chose one and paddled off, glancing at his watch
as he did so. It was barely a quarter of an hour since he had left
Sabatini.

The river at this spot was broad, but it narrowed suddenly on
rounding a bend about a hundred yards away. The house-boat was in
sight now, moored close to a tiny island. Arnold pulled up alongside
and paused to reconnoiter. To all appearance, it was a derelict.
There were no awnings, no carpets, no baskets of flowers. The
outside was grievously in need of paint. It had an entirely
uninhabited and desolate appearance. Arnold beached his boat upon
the little island and swung himself up onto the deck. There was
still no sign of any human occupancy. He descended into the saloon.
The furniture there was mildewed and musty. Rain had come in through
an open window, and the appearance of the little apartment was
depressing in the extreme. Stooping low, he next examined the four
sleeping apartments. There was no bedding in any one of them, nor
any sign of their having been recently occupied. He passed on into
the kitchen, with the same result. It seemed as though his journey
had been in vain. He made his way back again on deck, and descended
the stairs leading to the fore part of the boat. Here were a couple
of servant's rooms, and, though there was no bedding, one of the
bunks gave him the idea that some one had been lying there recently.
He looked around him and sniffed--there was a distinct smell of
tobacco smoke. He stepped lightly back into the passageway. There
was nothing to be heard, and no material indication of any one's
presence, yet he had the uncomfortable feeling that some one was
watching him--some one only a few feet away. He waited for almost a
minute. Nothing happened, yet his sense of apprehension grew deeper.
For the first time, he associated the idea of danger with his
enterprise.

"Is any one