Presently Chalmers stirred in his sleep, pulling an imaginary blanket over his head after the manner of seamen accustomed to sleeping in hammocks on a draughty main-deck. Then he sat up and gazed at the ruddy glow of the burning wood. "It's my trick, sir, isn't it?" he asked. Fordyce glanced at his watch. "Yes," he replied, not deeming it necessary to inform the petty officer that twenty minutes had elapsed beyond the specified time. "I've had a most interesting conversation, Chalmers." "It strikes me, sir," remarked the petty officer, when Fordyce had related the details of his talk with Mindiggle, "that we are properly in the soup. Talking of soup, sir, I could just do with a plateful of 'bubbly'. Wonder if they'll grub us on rat soup, sir? I think I hear rats about, and they say food's scarce in these parts." A distinct, rasping sound came through the barred window. Both men listened intently. The noise could be likened to that of a rodent's teeth tackling a hard substance. Then came the pitter-patter of claws upon the smooth surface of the ice. "A whacking great rat," remarked Fordyce incredulously, as he threw fresh fuel upon the fire and stirred the embers into a blaze. Then he turned towards the window. An animate object was frantically pawing the iron bars, and a succession of short, shrill yaps of delight pierced the air. With a bound Fordyce gained the window. "Good old Flirt!" he exclaimed. "How on earth did you find us out?" The faithful terrier was almost mad with delight as she licked the Sub's hands and strove to force her way through the bars. Evidently she had been having a scrap with one of the canine residents of Petrograd, for there was a raw wound on one of her haunches. For full five minutes Fordyce fondled the still-excited terrier. Although overjoyed at seeing his pet, and at the sagacity of the animal, he was ill at ease. Flirt could not get into the cellar, and it was quite certain that if Mindiggle found that she was outside he would not allow her to rejoin her master except upon utterly unacceptable terms. He might, most likely, order the dog to be destroyed. "She must have smuggled herself upon the steamboat, same as 'ow she did when she first came off, sir," suggested Chalmers. "Yes, and now's the trouble to send her back," said the Sub. "I can't keep her here, and, goodness only knows, I wouldn't like to know that she was adrift in Petrograd." "Think she'll find her way back, sir?" asked the petty officer eagerly. "There's a chance," replied Fordyce dubiously. "The first boat leaves for Cronstadt at eight in the morning." "Then, sir," exclaimed Chalmers, excitedly, "that's the bloomin' ticket! Lash a note to her collar and let the skipper know where we are." CHAPTER XXV "Flirt, you're a Brick!" "What do you make of it, Mr. Macquare?" enquired the Hon. Derek. "It looks as if winter has stolen a march on us."