Half an hour later he struck oil for the second time. Another boatman, a little further along the quays, had also rowed a passenger out to the _L’Escaut_, and this one, it appeared, was Dangle. But though French kept working steadily away, he could hear nothing of Sime. In the end it was a suggestion of Renard’s that put him once more on the trail. The interpreter proved an intelligent youth, and when he had grasped the point at issue, he stopped and pointed to the river. “You say, monsieur, that the sheep, she lie there, opposite the Musée Steen, is it not so? _Bon!_ We haf walked along all the quays near to that. Your friends would not haf hired boat from farther on—it is too far. You say, too, they come from England secretly, is it not? _Bon!_ They would come to the other side.” French did not understand. “The other side?” he repeated questioningly. “But yes, monsieur, the other side.” The young fellow’s eyes flashed in his eagerness. “Over there, La Gare de Waes.” He pointed out across the great stream to its west bank. “I didn’t know there was a station across there,” French admitted. “Where does the line go to?” “Direct to Ghent. Your friends change trains at Ghent. It is a quiet railway. They come unseen.” “Good man,” said French heartily. “We’ll go and find out. How do you get to the blessed place?” M. Renard smiled delightedly. “Ah yes, monsieur. You weesh to cross? Is it not?” he cried. “This way. We take ferry from the Quai Van Dyck. It is near.” Half an hour later they had reached the Tête de Flandre—the low-lying western bank of the Scheldt. It bore a small but not unpicturesque cluster of old-fashioned houses, nestling about one of the historic Antwerp forts. Renard, now apparently quite as interested in the chase as French, led the way along the river bank from boatman to boatman, with the result that before very many minutes had passed French had obtained the information he wanted. It appeared that about 1:00 P.M. on the day in question, a strapping young boatman had noticed three strangers approaching from the direction of the Waes Station, a hundred yards or more distant. They consisted of a tall, clean-shaven man of something under middle age and two women, both young. One was tall and strongly made and dark as to hair and eyes, the other was slighter and with red gold hair. The smaller one seemed to be ill, and was stumbling along between the other two, each of whom supported her by an arm. None of the trio could speak French or Flemish, but they managed by signs to convey the information that they wanted to be put on board the _L’Escaut_, which was lying out in midstream. The man had rowed them out, and they had been received on board by an elderly gentleman with a dark beard.