Giving a final glance round, Mr Buckley made one end of the rope fast round his body. "Lower away, lads," he exclaimed. "I'm not a heavy weight, and when one has a groggy arm it puts a stopper on hand-over-hand work." As soon as Mr Buckley reached the ledge, Atherton and Phillips swarmed down. They were now only twenty feet above the sea, and at that particular spot the irregular shape of the cliffs permitted a fairly easy descent. "We'll go with you, sir, as far as the Caves," whispered the Leader, but the Scoutmaster demurred. "One can go where three cannot sometimes," he replied. "If there's any bother I'll whistle for you. I think I can well hold my own till then." In five minutes Mr Buckley returned. "It's all clear, I think," he remarked in an undertone. "The dust seems undisturbed and there's been no wind to level it. I've covered my tracks very carefully in case of accidents." Quickly undressing, Atherton, with a rope tied round his waist, in case he slipped, made his way down to the water's edge. Casting off the rope, he waited till Phillips joined him, and as noiselessly as the little creatures from which the patrol took its name, the two Scouts slipped into the water. Not a word was spoken as the lads swam with steady strokes towards the yacht The sea was quite warm, warmer in fact than the air. Both Scouts knew how to swim with the least exertion and without making a splash. They did not hurry, realising that haste in swimming means loss of strength; so, keeping side by side, they made light work of their outward journey. The mysterious yacht was now riding lightly to her anchor. There was little or no tide; and her cable was, in nautical parlance, "straight up and down." By a fortunate chance, owing no doubt to the slovenliness of her crew rather than to their lack of seamanship, the yacht's bobstay was still hove taut, and this afforded a fine foothold for the two lads. Atherton could just manage to grasp the bowsprit. Raising his legs, he threw his heels over the low bulwark and contrived to draw himself on deck. He waited, every sense keenly on the alert. All was quiet, save for a muffled conversation in the cabin. Assisting Phillips on board, the elder lad led the way aft. Their bare feet made no sound upon the dew-sodden decks; and, cautiously picking their way over coils of ropes and avoiding formidable-looking cleats that would, in the event of hitting them, cause painful results, the two Scouts came to the closed companion hatch communicating to the main cabin. Through a chink in the teak door, Atherton saw that a light was burning. The scuttles had been covered with a thick material in order to screen the light within.