Before her crew had recovered from this visitation a splendid boat, as long as _Messenger_, if not longer, swept up alongside with a precision that never even touched the fenders of the yawl, which Adrian had rushed to throw out. He said to his mother afterwards, in a perfect passion of admiration, "The bo’sun just hooked on--no fuss--no bother--and _Messenger_ jumping like a mad-horse." The boy in charge was perhaps a year older than Christobel. His fair face was beaming with satisfaction. He was enjoying himself to the full! With engaging courtesy he put the two girls in the stern sheets and held a short parley with Adrian, who refused to leave the yawl. "You see, sir, I’m responsible--she’s Sir Marmaduke Shard’s _Messenger_, and he----" "Your brother sent me to fetch you off, and two of our men will take over the yawl," explained the boy. "My _brother_!" "Mr. Romilly, yes. We are destroyer _Spite_, and the men will see the yawl safe into Bell Bay; they are instructed." Orders flew, while Christobel gasped out "_Malcolm_" in a choked voice as Adrian came down beside her. "There’s any amount of grub on board," said Adrian hurriedly, "cocoa and coffee. Please tell your men to----" "Thanks very much, sir; they’ll enjoy themselves." Mr. Rodney Vane passed on the information, and the big galley swept away, along the ladder of light, towards the waiting destroyer. "I suppose," ventured Christobel, recovering speech, "that Bell Bay is close by." "Not so very close, Miss Romilly," answered Mr. Vane. "You see, you’re in the Bristol Channel. We saw your lights, of course, and couldn’t make you out, as you weren’t a fishing-boat, and were--ahem--flying the White Ensign." Adrian became crimson. "That was a rag, sir," he explained hastily. "You see, my sister and I went off at a moment’s notice on a funny sort of mission; we didn’t think anyone would see--we ran it up for a rag--and forgot it." Mr. Vane noticed my "sister" in the singular. He wondered about the tall girl with a golden pigtail, but of course made no remark. Malcolm, in all the state of authority and gold lace, received them at the gangway. "Hullo, Crow, this is awfully decent. Hullo, Pam----" There was a moment’s pause as he and the tall girl with arrogant eyes looked at each other. "Come along down to my cabin," he said. "I expect you want to rest." At the earliest possible moment Adrian and Crow explained the meaning of this eccentricity on their parts, also all they knew, so far, about the strange girl they had rescued in place of Pamela. "Poor little Pam," said Malcolm. "That reminds me, I’ve got three days leave due, and I’m coming along to look up the Bell House. How’s Mum?" "She’ll be all right when we get back," answered Crow sagely; "just this moment I expect she’s not over bright." In course of time the white yawl lay on her moorings in Bell Bay, none the worse for this wild adventure.