at in.'

Von Bruening was ready with a new proposal.

'Why didn't I think of it before?' he said. 'I'll tow you out in my
launch. Be ready at 6.30; we shall have water enough then. My men
will send you a warp.'

It was impossible to refuse, but a sense of being personally
conducted again oppressed me; and the last hope of a bed in the inn
vanished. Davies was none too effusive either. A tug meant a pilot,
and he had had enough of them.

'He objects to towage on principle,' I said.

'Just like him!' laughed the other. 'That's settled, then!' A dogcart
was standing before the inn door in readiness for von Bruening. I was
curious about Esens and his business there. Esens, he said, was the
principal town of the district, four miles inland.

'I have to go there,' he volunteered, 'about a poaching case--a
Dutchman trawling inside our limits. That's my work, you know--police
duty.'

Had the words a deeper meaning?

'Do you ever catch an Englishman?' I asked, recklessly. 'Oh, very
rarely; your countrymen don't come so far as this--except on
pleasure.' He bowed to us each and smiled.

'Not much of that to be got in Bensersiel,' I laughed. 'I'm afraid
you'll have a dull afternoon. Look here. I know you can't leave your
boat altogether, and it's no use asking Herr Davies; but will _you_
drive into Esens with me and see a Frisian town--for what it's worth?
You're getting a dismal impression of Friesland.' I excused myself,
said I would stop with Davies we would walk out over the sands and
prospect for the evening', sail.

'Well, good-bye then,' he said, 'till the evening. Be ready for the
warp at 6.30.'

He jumped up, and the cart rattled off through the mud, crossed the
bridge, and disappeared into the dreary hinterland.

XVII. Clearing the Air

'HAS he gone to get the police, do you think?' said Davies, grimly.

'I don't think so,' said I. 'Let's go aboard before that customs
fellow buttonholes us.'

A diminished row of stolid Frisians still ruminated over the
'Dulcibella'. Friend Grimm was visible smoking on his forecastle. We
went on board in silence.

'First of all, where exactly is Memmert?' I said.

Davies pulled down the chart, said 'There,' and flung himself at full
length on a sofa.

The reader can see Memmert for himself. South of Juist, _[see Map B]_
abutting on the Ems delta, lies an extensive sandbank called
Nordland, whose extreme western rim remains uncovered at the highest
tides; t