They had hard work to keep up with Sir Meyville as he led them hastily down the little stretch of shingle to where a man was sitting in a boat. They all jumped in. The man with the oars looked doubtfully for a moment at Granet, but pulled off at once when ordered to do so. They rowed round to the front of the queer little structure. A man from inside held out his hand and helped them up. Another young man, with books piled on the floor by his side, was making some calculations at a table. Almost the whole of the opening of the place was taken up by what seemed to be a queer medley of telescopes and lenses pointing different ways. Sir Meyville beamed upon them as he hastily turned a handle. “Now,” he promised, “you shall see what no one has ever seen before. See, I point that arrow at that spot, about fifty yards out. Now look through this one, Isabel.” The girl stooped forward, was silent for a moment, then she gave a little cry of wonder. She clutched Granet’s arm and made him take her place. He, too, called out softly. He saw the sandy bottom covered with shells, a rock with tentacles of seaweed floating from it, several huge crabs, a multitude of small fishes. Everything was clear and distinct. He looked away with a little gasp. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. Sir Meyville’s smile was beatific. “That is my share,” he said. “Down in the other workshop my partners are hard at it. They, too, have met with success. You must tell your men, Captain Chalmers, never to relax their vigil. This place must be watched by night and by day. My last invention was a great step forward, but this is absolute success. For the next few months this is the most precious spot in Europe.” “It isn’t Captain Chalmers, father,” Isabel interrupted. Sir Meyville seemed suddenly to become still. He looked fixedly at Granet. “Who are you, then?” he demanded. “Who are you, sir?” “I am Captain Granet of the Royal Fusiliers, back from the Front, wounded,” Granet replied. “I can assure you that I am a perfectly trustworthy person.” “But I don’t understand,” Sir Meyville said sharply. “What are you doing here?” “I came to call upon your daughter,” Granet explained. “I had the pleasure of meeting her at lunch at Lady Anselman’s the other day. We have been playing golf together at Brancaster.” Sir Meyville began to mumble to himself as he pushed them into the boat. “My fault,” he muttered,--“my fault. Captain Granet, I thought that my daughter knew my wishes. I am not at present in a position to receive guests or visitors of any description. You will pardon my apparent inhospitality. I shall ask you, sir, to kindly forget this visit and to keep away from here for the present.” “I shall obey your wishes, of course, sir,” Granet promised. “I can assure you that I am quite a harmless person, though.”