It struck me that another and less public mode of entrance would be more in keeping with my part. The paling was only about five feet high, and offered little or no obstacle to anyone as active as myself. I could slip over quietly, just where the trees were thickest, and, unless the whole thing collapsed beneath me, the odds were that my ungentlemanly intrusion would probably pass unnoticed. I was in the very act of turning away to put this notion into practice when a sudden sound from inside brought me up as stiff as a ramrod. It was the unmistakable noise of an opening door, followed almost immediately by the voice of a man speaking and the crunch of footsteps coming down the drive. Thanks chiefly to my sea training, I managed to keep my head. One glance round showed me that the only available hiding-place was the thick hedge on the opposite side of the road. I made for it like a rabbit, and the next moment I had forced my way through, and was crouching down, scratched and panting, behind a welcome barrier of blackberry bushes. As luck would have it, I could not have pitched upon a better spot. I was quite invisible myself, and through a small gap in the hedge it was just possible to command a glimpse of the gate. I found that by pushing aside some leaves I was able to enlarge the view still further, and with my eyes glued to this peep-hole I waited breathlessly for the next development. It was not long in coming. A couple of seconds could hardly have passed when the gate swung open and two figures stepped out into the roadway. For a moment I stared at them both, hardly able to believe my eyes. One was Christine, and the other--of all people in the world--was Dr. Manning. To say that I was knocked all of a heap would be as near as I can get to describing my sensations. I had thought of a good many things, but the possibility of Christine and the doctor being acquainted had never so much as crossed my mind. I could only gaze at them in a sort of incredulous amazement, while all the theories that I had previously built up seemed to be tumbling about like a pack of cards. It was Manning's voice which collected my scattered wits for me. "I will come round to-morrow about half-past ten," he said "You needn't be the least worried though. Everything's going as well as it possibly can." Christine held out her hand. "I am not anxious now," she said simply. "Good-bye, and thank you very much." He looked down at her in a way that filled me with a sudden and peculiar resentment. "Don't go in for a minute," he said. "Come as far as the end of the road with me. I want to show you how to get to the barge in case you ever honour me with a visit." I saw Christine hesitate; then, as if anxious not to appear unfriendly, she made a little gesture of assent. "Oh, very well," she said, smiling. "But I mustn't be long. My uncle will be wondering what has become of me."