"Yes," admitted Jefferson. "I did. Pyecroft, here, preferred a swim in the North Sea. By the by, Meredith, old Cumberleigh's knocking around somewhere. He was on the pier five minutes ago. We're off to Stenness Air Station--it's not far from Scapa--for aerial observation duties. Hello! This our boat?" A large, two-funnelled vessel was approaching the jetty, her decks deserted save for a few muffled and greatcoated passengers. Usually she brought a full complement of liberty men from the Grand Fleet, but now, in anticipation of a move on the part of the Hun Navy, all leave had been stopped. "Better than crossing in a tug," commented Wakefield. "And we'll be under the lee of the land till we clear Duncansbay Head. Hello! here's Cumberleigh. Cheerio!" Greetings were exchanged between the R.A.F. captain and the R.N.V.R. officers, while Morpeth came in for a fair share of congratulations. "Thank goodness I found my sea-legs aboard your old hooker, Morpeth," remarked Cumberleigh. "My word, there's a swell running!" The steamer made fast. The wire hawsers were made fast and the gangways run out. "Bless my soul," ejaculated McIntosh, pointing to a cloaked figure descending the gangway, "'if that isn't my Sub! Wonder what he's doing here?" He detached himself from the crowd and confronted Sub-lieutenant Jasper Clinch. "Hello, Sub!" he exclaimed. "Got leave?" "No," was the reply. "No such luck. The S.N.O. ordered me to Auldhaig. There's a Court of Inquiry about something. Has the train left yet?" Jefferson nudged Cumberleigh in the ribs. "Good enough!" exclaimed the R.A.F. captain, and to the surprise of everyone standing around, the two officers literally leapt at the astounded Clinch. Before the latter had time to consider the situation he was lying on his back on the wet and muddy jetty, with Cumberleigh sitting on his chest and Jefferson gripping his ankles. "Find the A.P.M., somebody," exclaimed Cumberleigh in an exultant tone; "or a picquet will answer the purpose. Now then, Captain Fennelburt, or whatever you call yourself--no, don't wriggle, it's bad form--there's no need to worry about the Auldhaig train. You'll soon be in safe quarters, my festive!" CHAPTER XXXI THE GREAT SURRENDER "SUPPOSING the Huns won't sign," remarked Wakefield, somewhat wistfully. "They will," said Meredith reassuringly. "We've got them cold--absolutely." "And the sooner the better," added Jock McIntosh. "It was a close thing to say who would be fed up first--Fritz or us. Fritz did win that, but by a short length." "You are speaking for yourself, my lad," said Wakefield. "You can see your release in sight, but I'll bet you'll be wishing yourself back again before you're out six months." It was the morning of the memorable 11th day of November. The three M.L. skippers, just back from patrol, had foregathered in the ward-room of No. 1497 during the period known as "stand easy."