"Of course she doesn't," snapped Miss Gabriel. "She means to say that the gentlemen were escorting us home, but, meeting the coastguard with the news of this terrible wreck----" "A wreck, ma'am?" "Why, God bless the man! Don't you know? Haven't you heard the guns going?... But of course you have. Mrs. Treacher told me you were down helping with the boats--you and her husband and Archelaus, though what help you three supposed yourselves capable of giving," wound up Miss Gabriel, reverting for a moment to her customary manner, "I don't pretend to guess." "As for that," the Commandant answered gravely, "I am happy to tell you there has been no wreck. True, a vessel in distress--a large liner--had found herself among the Hell-deeps, of all abominably awkward places. But by the mercy of Heaven she managed to extricate herself, and has dropped anchor, not half an hour ago, in the Roads." Miss Gabriel stared. "The Hell-deeps ... and at anchor in the Roads?" she repeated stupidly. "Oh, will someone kindly tell me whether I am standing on my head or my heels! A large liner?--the thing's impossible! And in a fog that thick you couldn't see your hand before your face!" "Are you quite sure, ladies," asked the Commandant, still gravely, "that you are not exaggerating the thickness of the fog, somewhat?" "What?" Miss Gabriel took him up, like an echo. "When we started for home and found we were half-way up Garrison Hill, and all the time convinced we were at Old Town, in the churchyard!" The Commandant shook his head; and it must be conceded that he had some excuse. "But why in the churchyard?" he asked, gently. "Because of the bell. If it comes to that"--Miss Gabriel threw herself desperately on the offensive--"how do you account for the woman we saw here, just now?" "I beg your pardon? A--a woman, did you say?" (Oh, Major Vigoureux!) "Yes, sir--a woman; a bedizened woman." "My dear Elizabeth," pleaded Mrs. Pope feebly, "are we quite sure that we saw her?--that it wasn't a--a sort of mistake? It certainly seemed--for a moment---- But really, you know, there is no one in the Islands----" "My dear Charlotte, didn't we see her with our own eyes?" Mrs. Pope sighed. "It seems to me I have seen such a number of things--of incredible things--to-night." "You are sure it wasn't Mrs. Treacher?" suggested the Commandant, wickedly. "Mrs. Treacher! Mrs. Trea---- Does Mrs. Treacher go about in silks and furs and low bodices with a thousand pounds' worth of diamonds on her abandoned neck?" "Certainly not to my knowledge. But," said the Commandant, turning, as the door opened, "you had better ask her for yourself." Now, it may be that Mrs. Treacher had also allowed Vashti to bewitch her. At any rate, she cordially hated Miss Gabriel, and she took, then and there, what she herself called afterwards, a strong line. "What are they wanting to know now?" she demanded, addressing the Commandant.