A score of boats put out to the rescue, picked up the exhausted swimmers, and attempted to right and recover the boat, but abandoned this attempt on the approach of an overwhelming force of French. These, coming up, seized on the boat and gallantly, under a short-dropping fire from our squadron, proceeded to right their prize; and, righting her, discovered Major Hymen, clinging to a thwart, trapped as an earwig is trapped beneath an inverted flower-pot. CHAPTER XVII. MISSING! Miss Marty had just finished watering her sweet-peas and mignonette; had inspected each of the four standard roses beside the front gate in search of green-fly; had caught a snail sallying forth to dine late upon her larkspurs, and called to Cai Tamblyn to destroy it; had, in short, performed all her ritual for the cool of the day; and was removing her gardening gloves when a vehement knocking agitated the front door, and Scipio hurried to announce that a caller--a Mr. Basket--desired to see her on important business. "Mr. Basket?" she echoed apprehensively, and made at once for the parlour, where she found her visitor mopping his brow. Despite the heat, he was pale. In his left hand he held a letter. "You will pardon me," he began in a flutter. "Am I addressing Miss Martha Hymen?" "You are, sir." Miss Marty clasped her hands in alarm at his demeanour. "Oh, tell me what has happened!" "All the way from Plymouth on purpose," answered Mr. Basket. "Most mysterious occurrence . . . ate a good dinner and retired to his room apparently in the best of health and spirits. On our return from the theatre he was gone." "Gone?" "Disappeared, vanished! We searched the house. His watch and pocket-book lay on the bed, together with a certain amount of loose change. His wig, too . . . you were aware?" "I have gone so far as to suspect it. But what dreadful news is this? Disappeared? Leaving no clue?" "We are in hopes, my wife and I, that this may afford a clue. A letter, and addressed to you; it lay upon his writing-table. We did not feel ourselves at liberty to break the seal. I trust--I sincerely trust--it may put a period to our suspense." Miss Marty took the letter, glanced at the address and tore the paper open with trembling hands. She perused the first few sentences with a puckered, puzzled brow; then of a sudden her eyes grew wide and round. Despite herself she uttered a little gasping cry. "It contains a clue at least?" asked Mr. Basket, who had been watching her face anxiously. "Dear lady, what does he say?" "Nun--nothing," Miss Marty caught at the back of a Chippendale chair for support. "Nothing?" echoed Mr. Basket blankly. "Nothing--That is to say I can't tell you. Oh, this is horrible!" "But pardon me," Mr. Basket insisted. "After travelling all the way from Plymouth!" "I can't possibly tell you," she repeated. "But, madam, consider my responsibility! I must really ask you to consider my responsibility."