The Hon. Derek took the paper parcel. He recognized it as the dummy package that he had assisted to make up in order to tackle Vladimir Klostivitch. "All right, carry on," he replied, dismissing the now shivering A.B. "Mr. Macquare," he continued, turning to the Lieutenant, "come below with me if you please." The two officers repaired to the Hon. Derek's cabin. "Young Fordyce has got into hot water, judging by this messsage," remarked the Lieutenant-Commander, holding up the sodden parcel for his subordinate's inspection. "It's lucky the address is given, for I believe I forgot it. Now what's to be done?" "Call for volunteers for a rescue-party, sir," suggested Mr. Macquare promptly. The Hon. Derek shook his head. "Won't do, Mr. Macquare. We aren't lying on an uncivilized coast, where we can act off our own bat. We've got to tread warily. All the same, there's no time to be lost. If we work through diplomatic channels there'll be weeks, perhaps months, of exasperating delay. We must be under way within the next twenty-four hours unless we are to be frozen in here for the winter. And I don't want to leave my Sub behind. Hallo, what is it? I'm busy." The entry of a bluejacket holding a piece of pasteboard in his hand interrupted the discussion. The card was that of Naval-Lieutenant Rodsky. "Show him down below," ordered the Hon. Derek. "Dash it all, Macquare, Rodsky's a sound fellow; he might help us." The Russian officer had recently returned to Cronstadt and had taken an early opportunity of paying a formal call upon the Hon. Derek. When informed of what had befallen Sub-Lieutenant Fordyce he became genuinely sympathetic. "I quite see your point," he remarked, speaking in French, since, in the absence of the Sub, Stockdale was without the services of an interpreter. "I would suggest that you consult my friend, Captain-Lieutenant Orloff, of the destroyer _Zabiyaka_. She is lying in No. 3 Basin." Acting upon this advice the three officers went on board the destroyer, and Rodsky briefly outlined the case to his confrère. "Vladimir Klostivitch--do I know anything of him?" exclaimed Captain Orloff. "One of the most dangerous men in Russia at the present time. M. Kerensky would have had him arrested, but there,"--the Captain shrugged his shoulders expressively--"Trotsky is more powerful than M. Kerensky, and Klostivitch is in Trotsky's pay." "And Germany's too, I fancy," added Stockdale. "I can suggest a plan," continued Orloff. "One that will remove all responsibility from your shoulders, Monsieur le Capitan. In the interests of my country I will arrest this villain, Klostivitch. Fortunately my crew are loyal to me and anti-German to a man. Now leave everything to me, and if your officer is not liberated within twelve hours my name is not Boris Orloff." "You will not expose yourself to the risk of the Extremists' fury?" asked the Hon. Derek, loath to accept any favour that might be detrimental to the generous Russian's interests.