But at last the boat was alongside the quays of the French port, and through sheets of rain she saw the lights of a climbing town, and the gleaming roadways of the docks. Crowds of men in khaki; a park of big guns, their wet nozzles glittering under the electric lamps overhead; hundreds of tethered horses; a long line of motor lorries;--the scene to her was all a vague confusion, as Cicely, efficient and masterful as usual, made a way for them both along the deck of the steamer through close ranks of soldiers--a draft waiting their orders to disembark. Then as they stepped on land, perception sharpened in a moment. A tall man in khaki--whom she recognised as Dr. Howson--came eagerly forward. 'Mrs. Sarratt!--I hope you're not too tired. Would you rather get some food here, in the town, or push on at once?' 'At once, please. How is he?' A pair of kind grey eyes looked down upon her sadly. 'Very ill, _-very_ ill!--_but_ quite sensible. I know you will be brave.' He carried her along the quay--while Cicely was taken possession of by a nurse in uniform, who talked rapidly in an undertone. 'I have two cars,' said Howson to Nelly--'You and I will go first. Our head Sister, Miss Parrish, who has been in charge of the case for so long, will bring Miss Farrell.' And as they reached the two waiting motors, Nelly found her hand grasped by a comely elderly woman, in a uniform of grey and red. 'He was quite comfortable when we left him, Mrs. Sarratt. There's a wonderful difference, even since yesterday, in his _mind_. He's beginning to remember everything. He knows you're coming. He said--"Give her my dear love, and tell her I'm not going to have my supper till she comes. She shall give it me." Think of that! It's like a miracle. Three weeks ago, he never spoke, he knew nobody.' Nelly's white face trembled, but she said nothing. Howson put her into the foremost car, and they were soon off, threading their way through the busy streets of the base, while the Sister followed with Cicely. 'Oh, it was _cruel_ not to let Mrs. Sarratt know earlier!' said the Sister indignantly, in answer to a hurried question from Cicely as soon as they were alone. 'She might have had three weeks with him, and now there can only be a day or two. What was Miss Cookson about? Even if she were just mistaken, she might at least have brought her sister over to see for herself--instead of preventing it by every means in her power. A most extraordinary woman!' Cicely felt her way in reply. She really knew nothing except what Farrell had been able hurriedly to say to Marsworth at Windermere station--which had been afterwards handed on to her. Farrell himself was entirely mystified. 'The only motive I can suggest'--he had said to Marsworth--'is that Miss Cookson had an insane dislike of her brother-in-law. But, even so, why did she do it?'