Reach after reach of the river was passed, as the motor-boat, gradually working up power, increased her speed. Astern, the funereal pile of Antwerp glowed red; it seemed as if the crew could never get beyond sight of it. The spire of the cathedral had vanished beneath the horizon, but the smoke from the burning city still hung overhead. The four occupants of the motor-boat had made their way aft. The girls, refusing to go into the cabin, sat on one side of the cockpit, their eyes fixed upon the glare of the fallen port. Rollo, holding his wounded wrist, shut his jaw tightly and endured the pain. Since his chum made no complaint of his injuries, Rollo grimly decided to keep the fact that he was wounded from the others. Kenneth, steadying the steering-wheel with his right hand, had almost forgotten the unpleasant attention of the shrapnel bullet. The sense of responsibility outweighed all other considerations. "We're across the frontier now," he announced, as the little craft curtsied to the slight undulations of the comparatively wide expanse of the West Scheldt. "Now, girls, which shall it be? Shall I land you on Dutch territory, or will you risk crossing the North Sea?" Thelma's was a prompt answer. "We'll stay with you, boys." "Will it be very rough?" asked Yvonne. She had faced the dangers of the bombardment bravely, but the perils of a voyage upon the open sea in a small, partly-decked craft gave her misgivings that the presence of her companions failed to keep in check. "Smooth as a mill-pond," declared Kenneth optimistically. "There's no wind. We'll have plenty of company on the way, I fancy; and what is more, the British navy has complete control of this part of the North Sea. We are doing fifteen knots, I think; that's a little over seventeen miles an hour. We ought to be in sight of the Kentish coast a couple of hours after sunrise." "Then I am satisfied," declared Yvonne. "That's good! Now, girls, how about a cup of coffee? I can't make it, so perhaps you'll do a good turn. Rollo will light the cabin light and show you where the fresh water is stored." As soon as his three companions had withdrawn to the cabin Kenneth closed the door. The gleam from within dazzled his eyes, and, with so much traffic about, that would never do. The motor-boat was running without navigation lights. If there were any "steaming" lamps on board he had failed to notice them. But the rule of the road seemed to be sadly neglected that fateful night. There were vessels of all sizes and rigs making for safety, and not one-tenth of their number showed the regulation red and green lights.