had made a struggle to be on time to-night; it would
have been jolly to get to the ship in daylight." Bob was strapping up
rugs briskly as he talked.

"How do we get down to the ship, Bob?"

"Oh, no doubt there'll be taxis," Bob answered. "But it may be no end of
a drive--the conductor tells me there are miles and miles of docks, and
the Nauru may be lying anywhere. But he says there's always a military
official on duty at the station--a transport officer, and he'll be able
to tell me everything." He did not think it worth while to tell the
tired little sister what another man had told him, that it was very
doubtful whether they would be allowed to board any transport at night,
and that Liverpool was so crowded that to find beds in it might be an
impossibility. Bob refused to be depressed by the prospect. "If the
worst came to the worst, there'd be a Y.W.C.A. that would take in
Tommy," he mused. "And it wouldn't be the first time I've spent a night
in the open." Nothing seemed to matter now that they had escaped. But,
all the same, there seemed no point in telling Tommy, who was extremely
cheerful, but also very white-faced.

They drew into an enormous station, where there seemed a dense crowd
of people, but no porters at all. Bob piled their hand luggage on
the platform, and left Cecilia to guard it while he went on a tour of
discovery. He hurried back to her presently.

"Come on," he said, gathering up their possessions. "There's a big
station hotel opening on to the platforms. I can leave you sitting in
the vestibule while I gather up the heavy luggage and find the transport
officer. I'm afraid it's going to take some time, so don't get worried
if I don't turn up very soon. There seem to be about fifty thousand
people struggling round the luggage vans, and I'll have to wait my turn.
But I'll be as quick as I can."

"Don't you worry on my account," Cecilia said. "This is ever so
comfortable. I don't mind how long you're away!" She laughed up at him,
sinking into a big chair in the vestibule of the hotel. There were heavy
glass doors on either side that were constantly swinging to let people
in or out; through them could be seen the hurrying throng of people
on the station, rushing to and fro under the great electric lights,
gathered round the bookstall, struggling along under luggage, or--very
occasionally--moving in the wake of a porter with a barrow heaped with
trunks. There were soldiers everywhere, British a