tle of champagne into my pocket, and
then lighting a cigar, locked up the place, and set off for the creek
by my usual route. The tide was very high, and on several occasions I
had to scramble up and make my way along the sea-wall in full view
of the marsh and the roadway. Fortunately, however, there seemed,
as usual, to be no one about, and I reached the mouth of the creek
without much fear of having been watched or followed.

The _Betty_ was there all right, but I could see no sign of any one on
board. I walked up the creek until I was exactly opposite where she
was lying, and then putting my hands to my lips I gave her a gentle
hail.

In an instant Joyce's head appeared out of the cabin, and the next
moment she was on deck waving me a joyous welcome with the frying-pan.

"Oh, it's you!" she cried. "How lovely! Half a second, and I'll come
over and fetch you."

"Where's Mr. Gow?" I called out.

"He's gone home. I sent him off for a holiday. There's no one on board
but me."

She scrambled aft, and unshipping the dinghy, came sculling towards me
across the intervening water. She was wearing a white jersey, and with
her arms bare and her hair shining in the sunlight, she made a picture
that only a blind man would have failed to find inspiring.

She brought up right against the bank where I was standing, and
leaning over, caught hold of the grass.

"Jump," she said. "I'll hang on."

I jumped, and the next moment I was beside her in the boat, and we
were hugging each other as cheerfully and naturally as two children.

"You dear, to come so soon!" she said. "I wasn't expecting you for
ages."

I kissed her again, and then, picking up the oars, pushed off from the
bank. "Joyce," I said, "I've done it! I've made enough of the blessed
stuff to blow up half Tilbury."

She clapped her hands joyfully. "How splendid! I knew you would. Have
you tried it?"

I shook my head. "Not yet," I said. "We'll do it early tomorrow
morning, before any one's about." Then, digging in my scull to avoid a
desolate-looking beacon, I added anxiously: "What about Tommy? Is he
coming?"

Joyce nodded. "He'll be down tomorrow. I've got a letter for you from
him. He saw Mr. Latimer last night."

"Did he!" said I. "Things are moving with a vengeance. What about the
gentle George?"

Joyce laughed softly. "Oh," she said; "I've such lots to tell you, I
hardly know where to start."

I ran the boat alongside the _Betty_, and we both climb