His luggage consisted of a rolled hammock and blankets, a canvas bag containing his shore-going kit, and a bundle done up in a blue handkerchief. "You managed to get here, then, Boldrigg," was Mr. Armitage's greeting. "Ay, ay, sir," was the cheery reply. "I fetched up along all right with my kit. It's mighty good of you, sir, to put up with the likes o' me." "Not at all," protested the Scoutmaster. "You've the lads to thank. And we'll make good use of you, never fear." "Glad of that, sir," rejoined the old sailor. "It shows you don't think I'm a worn-out old shell-back, like some of 'em does hereabouts." The dinghy had to make two trips before the crew of the _Olivette_ and their belongings were placed on board. Then, while Roche and Flemming were "starting up" the motor, the others hoisted out the dinghy, and lashed her, keel uppermost, on the raised coach-roof over the engine. "Now," announced Mr. Armitage, "we'll work in watches in the cross-Channel run. Peter, pick three of the hands and carry on till ten o'clock. I'll give you the course, but you must act entirely on your own account. I'll relieve you at ten, and carry on till daybreak." "Very good, sir," replied Peter. "Take her out by the Needles Channel," continued the Scoutmaster, "and shape a course to pass about a couple of miles south of St. Catherine's. You'll take your departure from that point, steering a compass course of S. 26° W. That's making allowance for deviation. Have you got that?" "Yes, sir, S. 26° W. from St Catherine's," repeated the Patrol Leader. "Good; now carry on, please. I'm off duty until ten o'clock." Feeling vastly proud in the realization of his responsibility, Stratton proceeded to carry out instructions. He chose Roche, Woodleigh, and Rayburn to be in his watch, the Tenderfoot being included so that he would escape the night-watch from 10 p.m. till dawn. "All ready, Roche?" inquired Peter, giving the wheel a preliminary turn. "Let go, for'ard." Phil Rayburn, in spite of being termed a Tenderfoot, was no greenhorn. He knew his part of the task of casting loose the moorings. "All gone, sir," he shouted, as the buoy splashed into the water. "Touch astern!" The _Olivette_ glided more than her own length astern, until from the wheelhouse Peter could see the buoy bobbing in the water. "Easy ahead!" The boat quickly responded to the action of the propeller. A turn of the wheel gave her sufficient helm to avoid the buoy. Stratton was too good a helmsman to delay the start by getting his propeller mixed up with the mooring rope and chain. "Full ahead!" shouted the Patrol Leader, in order to make himself heard above the noise of the engine. Then, with a grunt of satisfaction, Peter realized that the big adventure had actually started. The _Olivette_ was on her way across to La Belle France. CHAPTER VIII The Stowaway