“Peach juice,” said Miss Rutherford, “is nectar. Do I drink it out of the tin or must I pour it into the palm of my hand and lap?” “Any way you like,” said Frank. “I believe there’s a bailer somewhere if you prefer it.” “I prefer the tin, if it doesn’t shock you.” “Oh,” said Frank, “nothing shocks me.” This was very nearly true. It had not been true a week before; but a day on the sea with Priscilla had done a great deal for Frank. Miss Rutherford threw her head back, tilted the peach tin, and quaffed a satisfying draught. “I’m afraid,” she said, “that you were just as sceptical as your cousin was about my sponges.” “I was rather surprised.” “Naturally. You were thinking of bath sponges and naked Indians plunging over the side of their boats with large stones in their hands to sink them. But I’m not after bath sponges. I’m doing the zoophytes for the natural history survey of this district.” “Oh,” said Frank vaguely. “They brought me over from the British Museum because I’m supposed to know something about the zoophytes. I ought to, for I don’t know anything else.” “It must be most interesting.” “Last week I did the fresh water lakes and got some very good results. Professor Wilder and his wife are doing rotifers. They’re stopping----” “In tents?” said Frank with interest. “Tents! No. In quite the sweetest cottage you ever saw. I sleep on a sofa in the porch. What put tents into your head?” “Then it wasn’t Professor Wilder and his wife whose boat you rescued just now?” “Oh, dear no. I don’t know who those people are at all. I never saw them before. Miss Benson is doing the lichens, and Mr. Farringdon the moths. They’re the only other members of our party here at present, and I’m the only one out on the bay.” Frank was conscious of a sense of relief. It would have been a disappointment to him if the German spies had turned out to be harmless botanists or entomologists. Jimmy Kinsella was sitting in front of his boat gazing placidly at the sea when Priscilla tapped him on the shoulder. “What are you doing here, Jimmy?” she said. “Is that yourself, Miss?” said Jimmy, eyeing her quietly. “It is. And the only other person present is you. Now we’ve got that settled.” Jimmy Kinsella grinned. “I thought it was the Tortoise when I saw her; but I said to myself ‘There’s strangers on board of her, for Miss Priscilla would know better than to run her aground on the bank when the tide would be leaving her.’” “You haven’t told me yet,” said Priscilla, “what you’re doing here.” “I’m out along with the lady beyond.” “I could see that much for myself. What’s she doing?” “Without she’d be trying the salt water for the good of her health, I don’t know what she’s doing.” “I thought at first that it might be that,” said Priscilla. “Has she any sponges with her?” “Not that I seen, Miss. But sure none of them would take a sponge with them into the sea. They get plenty of it without that.” “I just thought she hadn’t.”