sounded obediently, and down the hill all three
staggered--past the garrison gates, with a call to Mrs. Treacher to
pull for all she was worth--and still forward among the ruts and loose
stones, all so familiar that relying on tread alone (as in fact they
did) they could not miss their way. Below them, along the quay, and on
the causeway at the head of it--voices were calling and lights moving;
but the fog reduced the shouts to a twitter, as of birds, and the
torches and lantern to mere glow-worm sparks. The coastguards were
embarking and the Lord Proprietor, just arrived upon the scene, was
running about--as Sergeant Archelaus put it afterwards, "like a paper
man in a cyclone"--calling out the names of volunteers for the
lifeboat.

If Sergeant Archelaus ever afterwards spoke disparagingly of the Lord
Proprietor's activities that night, something may be forgiven him; as
something may be forgiven the Lord Proprietor--for on such occasions
men blurt out what rises to their lips.

The fog had found its way into Treacher's bugle before our three heroes
reached the quay; but he continued to blow his best; and there, at the
end of the causeway, Sir Caesar ran into them--ran straight into the
Commandant, almost knocking out his breath--calling, as he ran, for
someone to take bow oar in the lifeboat.

"Will I do?" asked Sergeant Archelaus, coolly, as became a soldier.

"You?" The Lord Proprietor thrust his torch close. "Oh, get out of my
way--this is work to-night, work for men! And you"--catching sight of
the Commandant--"how much do you think you are helping us with this
tom-fool noise?"

The Commandant drew himself erect, but before he could answer, the Lord
Proprietor had gone his way, waving his torch and still shouting for
someone to man the bow thwart.

There was a slow pause.

"Can you get to our boat, Archelaus?" asked the Commandant. The two
sergeants heard his voice drag on the question. They could not see his
face.

"She's afloat, sir," answered Sergeant Archelaus.

"Find the frap then, and pull her in."

"Is it our boat you're meaning, sir?" asked Archelaus, hesitating.

"Certainly."

"There's a certain amount of sea running, sir, out beyond the point."

"I observed as much this evening."

"Very good, sir." Something in the Commandant's voice forbade further
argument.

They were afloat almost as soon as the coastguard, and a full five
minutes before the life-boat. Sergeant Archelaus pulled strok