“Off the same old Irish corner I was watching last month. My young cousin was in her; so was one of the Raikes boys. A whole nest of mines, laid between patrols.” “I’ve heard there’s some dirty work going on there now,” Maddingham half whispered. “You needn’t tell _me_ that,” Portson returned. “But one gets a little back now and again.” “What are you two talking about?” said Tegg, who seemed to be dozing, too. “_Culana_,” Portson answered as he lit a cigarette. “Yes, that was rather a pity. But.... What about this Newt of ours?” “_I_ took her over from Jarrott next day--off Margate,” said Portson. “Jarrott wanted to get back to his mine-sweeping.” “Every man to his taste,” said Maddingham. “That never appealed to me. Had they detailed you specially to look after the Newt?” “Me among others,” Portson admitted. “I was going down Channel when I got my orders, and so I went on with him. Jarrott had been tremendously interested in his course up to date--specially off the Wash. He’d charted it very carefully and he said he was going back to find out what some of the kinks and curves meant. Has he found out, Tegg?” * * * * * Tegg thought for a moment. “_Cordelia_ was all right up to six o’clock yesterday evening,” he said. “’Glad of that. Then I did what Winchmore did. I lay behind this stout fellow and saw him well into the open.” “Did you say anything to him?” Tegg asked. “Not a thing. He kept moving all the time.” “’See anything?” Tegg continued. “No. He didn’t seem to be in demand anywhere in the Channel, and, when I got him on the edge of soundings I dropped him--as per your esteemed orders.” Tegg nodded again and murmured some apology. “Where did _you_ pick him up, Maddingham?” Portson went on. Maddingham snorted. “Well north and west of where you left him heading up the Irish Channel and stinking like a taxi. I hadn’t had my breakfast. My cook was seasick; so were four of my hands.” “I can see that meeting. Did you give him a gun across the bows?” Tegg asked. “No, no. Not _that_ time. I signalled him to heave to. He had his papers ready before I came over the side. You see,” Maddingham said pleadingly, “I’m new to this business. Perhaps I wasn’t as polite to him as I should have been if I’d had my breakfast.” “He deposed that Maddingham came alongside swearing like a bargee,” said Tegg. “Not in the least. This is what happened.” Maddingham turned to Portson. “I asked him where he was bound for and he told me--Antigua.” “Hi! Wake up, Winchmore. You’re missing something.” Portson nudged Winchmore, who was slanting sideways in his chair. “Right! All right! I’m awake,” said Winchmore stickily. “I heard every word.” Maddingham went on. “I told him that this wasn’t his way to Antigua----” “Antigua. Antigua!” Winchmore finished rubbing his eyes. “‘There was a young bride of Antigua----’” “Hsh! Hsh!” said Portson and Tegg warningly.