The pinnace was full of men. It was steered by a youngish-looking, clean-shaved officer, wearing the badges of a lieutenant.

Adams, Scarlett, and Bosustow were over the side in a minute, a coil of rope ran out, boat-hooks appeared from nowhere. There was a subdued hum of chatter, as the men from the cruiser greeted the three heroes of the submarine.

Then I heard a sharp and rather squeaky voice.

"Hallo, Whelk!" it said.

Bernard leant over the rail; he was nearly done, but he found voice to answer that hail.

"That you, Reptile?" he muttered, "you are more like a stuffed frog than ever!"

Such are the greetings and amenities of the Navy. But the last thing I remember hearing that afternoon came from the lieutenant in charge of the pinnace.

"I say, excuse me for mentioning it, but "well done," you fellows!"

CHAPTER XII

THE LAST CHAPTER--IN TWO PARTS

PART I.--DORIS AND MARJORIE HAVE A LATE VISITOR

NOTE.--I have certainly written this chapter--with a pen, that is.

Neither my brother"s wife nor my own actually set down a word of the following. I am not responsible, and I will say no more. You will understand why when you have read this last chapter. If I were the usual sort of p.o.o.pstick that often lurks behind such a story, I should say: "This is put in at the request of my friends." It is not. It is done simply to tell you the end of our little affairs, and rather more with my heart in my mouth than my tongue in my cheek.--J. C.

It was Sunday night in Lieutenant Murphy"s house at c.o.c.kthorpe. The wires had worked. By dawn there was an army of police from Norwich in a fleet of motor cars. They invested Morstone House School. Old Mr.

Pugmire, startlingly sober for once, was placed in charge of the boarders, who were all sent home during the course of the next day.

Another, and more dangerous reprobate, Mrs. Gaunt with the broken leg, was interrogated by a stern-faced inspector in the presence of a doctor.

The hag had been in von Vedal"s confidence for years. The police learned much.

By ten o"clock, others than the County Police had arrived. There were clean-shaved, quiet-mannered officials from the Admiralty. There was a lean, elderly gentleman in khaki, with the red band round his cap and on his shoulders which p.r.o.nounced him of the War Office Staff.

Admiral Kiderlen-Waechter and the man, Schweitzer, were in Norwich Castle by eleven. The whole countryside and coastline buzzed like swarming bees. A detachment of Territorials patrolled the village.

n.o.body knew anything at all of what had really happened, but everyone was very excited. All the local people agreed that there had not been a Sunday like this for many years!

Doris and Marjorie Joyce were at c.o.c.kthorpe, in the Lieutenant"s house.

They were being looked after by Mrs. Murphy, a jolly old Irishwoman with all the tact and humour of her nation--a woman who knew when to foil hysteria with a jest, to hearten a girl with a sharp word, and, when the final interrogation was over, to invite the warm relieving flood of tears with the instinctive motherhood of one who nightly prayed to Mary to pray for those in distress.

The girls were troubled very little. The Lieutenant of the Coastguards had seen almost everything. There would not be an inquest for two or three days. They had made their statement to a courteous person from London. They were to be left in peace.

After lunch the old lady came to them--came to the little sitting-room which opened out of the bedroom she had given them.

"Now, my dear children," she said, "ye"ll just take off your stays and pull down your hair, and I"ll tuck ye in under the eiderdown, and ye"ll sleep!"

She had two tumblers in her plump hands, upon which sparkled many rings--the Irish carbuncles, which are so much larger and more brilliant than mere rubies, the Ballysheen emeralds, "which you can only find at Ballysheen, me dear, and glad the jewellers of Regent Street would be if they could get a supply of "em! Faith! and the doctor has given me this for you. Bromide to calm the nerves--not that I ever had any nerves, meself, when I was your age! But I never had a crool stepfather lying dead in an adjacent village, nor was mixed up with spies, though in the Sin-fein riots of "84--Marjorie, me darlint, take your shoes off. Now then, I"ll tuck ye both up and pull down the blinds to keep out the sunlight, though it"s shutters I would be putting up when I was a gurl!"

It was like a fairy story, and Mrs. Murphy was the good Mrs.

Bedonebyasyoudid: "The children sank into a deep, dreamless sleep."

Poor dears, how they must have wanted it after all they had been through! I can see them lying there....

(Excision by censor and pencil note in the margin of the ma.n.u.script: "John Carey, you liar, don"t obtrude yourself and your sickly sentiments.")

It was about six when Doris and Marjorie awoke. They came out of the bedroom into the sitting-room adjoining. A bright fire burnt upon the hearth with that clear redness which indicates a dry and frosty night.

On a little table there was an equipage of tea, and a copper kettle sang gently.

These two girls were essentially healthy and plucky. The semi-imprisoned life they had led at Morstone House School had broken nothing of their spirit. The death--the righteous execution--of the man who had hurried their mother into her grave affected them not at all. They were too brave and fine to affect an emotion that they did not, could not, feel.

All that had happened in the large, L-shaped house was hideous and horrible, yet not to be overmuch remembered or deplored.

They had another subject of discussion, these two beautiful sisters.

"Doris, it was desperate from the first."

"Yes, it was, Marjorie."

"Then, do you think----?"

"That they will come out all right, you mean?"

"Yes, do you?"

"My red-haired sister," Doris answered, "if you go on like this I"ll be bound to bite!"

"Of course, Commander Carey knows all about submarines, and he"s one of the bravest officers...."

"Yes, I rather like Bernard myself."

"You _rather like_ him, Doris!"

"Well, you haven"t known him as long as I"ve known John. What price Johnny, my sweet young sister, and what about the bold, brave d.i.c.kson max. and d.i.c.kson major?"

They kept it up for a minute or two very well, and then their arms went round each other, and one sister held the other close.

The bell from the adjacent church tolled for evensong. It was a lovely night, cold and clear with a great, round, green moon. Mrs. Murphy mercifully left them alone. They heard the front door close, and saw her rolling up the path towards the church, a long, dark facade with lit windows.

As if in a dream, the girls heard the droning murmur of the Psalms.

Their thoughts were far away with a little band of heroes. There was a long pause--it must have been the sermon--and then came a deep, swelling sound. The congregation were singing the last hymn, and it was "for those in peril on the sea."

They clasped hands and went to the window, opening it wide to the moonlight. The simple, familiar music flooded into the room.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The door burst open. It was midnight, and Mrs. Murphy, in an appalling night-cap and a magenta dressing-gown, was standing by the girls" beds.