"She's covered the foreigner's lights." Sir Joseph lowered his glasses. "What's the time?" His companion lowered his glasses. He glanced at his watch. "Nearly half-past six," he said significantly. Then in a moment his glasses were levelled at a point much nearer into land. "Ah, here she comes," he said, in his quick way. "Now the play begins. The curtain's going up. No lights. A good many regulations are being broken to-night. Shall we need an enquiry into it, Chief?" Sir Reginald laughed. "Well, Lordburgh is to blame if any trouble occurs. He forced us to lend our powerful aid in this thing. The odds are on that boy Ruxton. I'd bet my hopes of pension on it. He's keen and confident. Such romance never came our way, eh? I haven't heard before of units of the British Navy being used to secure a man a wife." Sir Joseph laughed shortly. "There's a good deal more than a woman in this. According to Lordburgh this trifling naval episode may secure the person of Germany's strong man--criminally engaged. It would be worth while. Sparling's a good man. If they pull it off it'll be his best day's work. Hello!" At that moment a great white beam of light shot athwart the sky. It moved swiftly and rigidly. It swept in a great arc and settled on the face of the cliff away to their right. "Look. Three lights just below us." Sir Reginald pointed out upon the water. "Green astern. White ahead. Red amidships. It isn't the foreigner from outside. It's----" "Hark!" Sir Joseph held up a warning hand. The two men listened acutely. Far away, remote but distinct, the sound of a pistol-shot reached them. "That's the second," said Sir Joseph. "Come along, let's go and see what's happening." CHAPTER XXVIII THE WEEK-END Prince von Hertzwohl gazed about him. His tall figure was bowed. He was no longer clad in the working costume which had been his disguise for so many days in Dorby. His lean face was shaded beneath a wide, soft-brimmed hat which entirely concealed that wonderful forehead which had so impressed Ruxton. But the shaven cheeks added years to his age. Beneath his chin were displayed those fleshy cords which do not belong to anything up to the middle life. He certainly looked older than ever in the foreign-designed clothes which he was now wearing. The cold breath of the moor swept by him, it penetrated the lightish overcoat he was wearing. Once or twice he shivered as he gazed this way and that, searching the already hazy sky-line for a sign of any movement.