The other nodded. "Well, give him my love when you write, and tell him I've struck the type of man he wants for that experiment of his. I'll write to him, though. Now I must go and find my little party of braves--bringing an armed guard back to our base. Good-bye and good luck to you." They shook hands, and the Volunteer half turned away. An afterthought appeared to strike him, however, and he stopped. "By the way," he added, "how's Miss Cecily? Well, I hope?" "She's all right, thanks," was the reply. "I'll tell her I've seen you." "Will you? Yes, thank you. And will you say I--I am looking forward to seeing her again next time I come South?" The speaker moved away into the darkness. At that moment appeared Mouldy Jakes, panting behind a barrow. "Who's that old bird?" he queried. "Another of 'em," replied Thorogood. "'Nother of what?" "Cecily's hopeless attachments. He's a pal of Uncle Bill's, and as rich as Croesus. Amateur deep sea yachtsman before the war. He's awfully gone on Cecily." "'Counts for him hanging round your neck, I s'pose," commented the student of human nature. "Sort of 'dweller-near-the-rose' business. Heave that suit-case over--unless you can find any more of your cousin's admirers sculling about the country. P'raps they'll load this truck for us and shove it to the boat. Ah, here's Podgie!" A moment later the King's Messenger joined the group. "Will you all come and have supper with me at the hotel?" he said. "It's the last meal you'll get on terra firma for some time to come. I've got a car waiting outside." Mouldy Jakes heaved the last of the bags on to the hand-cart and enlisted the services of a superannuated porter drifting past in the darkness. The King's Messenger had slipped his arm inside Thorogood's, and the two moved on towards the barrier. "Has your wife got a young brother?" asked Mouldy Jakes abruptly as he and the India-rubber Man followed in the wake of the porter and the barrow. "Yes," replied Standish. "A lad called Joe--cadet at Dartmouth." "Did you ever ask him to dinner--before you were engaged, I mean?" pursued the inquisitor. The India-rubber Man laughed. "Well, not dinner exactly. But I went down to Osborne College once and stood him a blow-out at the tuck-shop." His companion nodded darkly in the direction of the King's Messenger. "Shouldn't wonder if Thorogood was feeling like that lad Joe. Useful fellow to travel with, Thorogood." [1] Submarine. CHAPTER III ULTIMA THULE Across the stormy North Sea came the first faint streak of dawn. It overtook a long line of Destroyers rolling landward with battered bridge-screens and salt-crusted funnels; it met a flotilla of mine-sweeping Sloops, labouring patiently out to their unending task. It lit the frowning cliffs, round which wind-tossed gulls wailed and breakers had thundered the beat of an ocean's pulse throughout the ages.