this river
until we find a boat. Go steady now, young Linton, and don't turn
hand springs!"

Within the Dutch frontier the Rhine breaks up into a delta of
navigable streams, on which little brown-sailed cargo-boats ply
perpetually; and the skipper of a Dutch cargo-boat will do anything
for money. A couple of hours' hard walking brought Jim and Desmond to
a village with a little pier near which half a dozen boats were
moored. A light showed in a port-hole, and they went softly on deck,
and found their way below into a tiny and malodorous cabin. A stout
man sprang to his feet at sight of the dripping scarecrows who invaded
his privacy.

South Africa had taught Desmond sufficient Dutch to enable him to make
himself intelligible. He explained the position briefly to the
mariner, and they talked at length.

"Wants a stiff figure," he said finally, turning to Jim. "But he says
'can do.' He'll get us some clothes and drop down the river with us
to Rotterdam, and find a skipper who'll get us across to Harwich--the
German navy permitting, of course!"

"The German navy!" said Jim scornfully. "But they're asleep!" He
yawned hugely. "I'm going to sleep, too, if I have to camp on the
gentleman's table. Tell him to call me when it's time to change for
Blighty!"

CHAPTER XIX

REVEILLE

It was not yet dawn when David Linton, fully dressed, came into the
cottage garden. The door stood open, and he kicked off his shoes and
crept into the house.

Eva sat on the floor of the passage with her head in her hands. She
looked up with a start as the big man came in, and scrambled to her
feet; a queer dishevelled figure with her tousled head and crumpled
cap and apron. A wave of dismay swept over Mr. Linton.

"Is he----?" he whispered, and stopped.

The girl beckoned him into the sitting-room.

"'E's never stirred all night," she whispered. "I dunno if 'e isn't
dead; I never see any one lie so still. The nurse wouldn't sit there
like a wooden image if 'e was dead, would she, sir?"

"Surely not," said David Linton. "Where is Miss Norah?"

"Kneelin' alongside of 'im, same like she was when you was here. She
ain't never stirred, neither. An' I'll bet a dollar she must be
stiff!"

"And Mrs. Hunt?"

"She's in there, wiv 'em. She 'ad a little sleep; not much. No one's
said one word in this 'ouse all night."

"Why didn't you go to bed?" David Linton said, looking down at the
pinched old face and the