"Why the blazes shouldn't she come?" demanded Bobby indignantly. "She's got more pluck and grit than all the rest of us put together." "Have it your own way," returned Campbell. "I'm thinking there'll be some bloody work before we get the bracelets on Dr. Manning, but if you choose to run the risk--" He broke off with a shrug of his shoulders, and Bobby stepped forward, glancing down at Christine's bare feet. "Haven't you got any shoes?" he asked. "You can't go through the shrubbery like that." "Yes, I can," she replied. "I've done it already." "Well, I'm hanged if you'll do it again," he retorted. "You're all cut about and bleeding as it is. You hop up on my back like a sensible girl." He stooped down, and, without making any fuss or protest, Christine at once accepted the proffered lift. Campbell's grim eyes watched her appreciatively. "You stick close to me, Commander," he said. "I'll go ahead of you with the light, and then you can see where you're putting your feet. I wouldn't have you drop that lass, not for a twenty pound note." He produced an electric torch from his pocket, and switching on the current, led the way out into the garden. Bobby followed, with Christine on his back, and, just waiting to close the door, I hurried after them and ranged myself alongside of Campbell. There was very little mist left, and the moon, although occasionally obscured by clouds, was now shining brightly. We passed through the iron gate and entered the shrubbery, where I showed them the broken wire which had been the cause of my downfall. Then, step by step, we moved cautiously forward along the winding path, until a glimmer of light in front of us showed that the trees were coming to an end. As we emerged on to the saltings Christine slipped lightly to her feet. We could see the launch lying out in the tideway, and a dark figure, silhouetted sharply against the water, standing on guard over a small dinghy. "There's Jenkins!" said Bobby, in a relieved whisper. At the sound of his voice the sailor wheeled round quickly; and then, seeing us advancing across the grass, drew himself up to the salute. "Anything happened?" enquired Bobby. "All quiet, sir," came the curt answer. "In you get," continued Bobby, motioning us towards the dinghy. He turned to Jenkins, who was moving away to unhitch the painter. "We've got to catch that launch, Jenkins," he said, "the one we saw coming out from the opposite shore. She's making for Rotterdam, and no matter if we break the blasted engines we're going to overhaul her before she gets there." "Very good, sir," returned Jenkins indifferently. He waited until we had scrambled in, and then, unfastening the rope, took his place at the oars. Two or three strokes brought us alongside, where Bobby held the boat steady while we clambered on board over the low iron railing.