l me that you'd called on Captain
Granet this evening."

"Well, it wasn't a matter of vital importance, was it?" he answered,
smiling. "My call, in any case, arose from an accident."

"Major Thomson," came a voice from the other side of the room, "it is
your deal."

Thomson returned obediently to the bridge-table. The rubber was over a
few minutes later and the little party broke up. Thomson glanced around
but the room was empty.

"I think, if I may," he said, "I'll go into the morning room and have a
whisky and soda. I dare say I'll find the Admiral there."

He took his leave of the others and made his way to the bachelor rooms
at the back of the house. He looked first into the little apartment
which Geraldine claimed for her own, but found it empty. He passed on
into the smoking-room and found all four of the young people gathered
around the table. They were so absorbed that they did not even notice
his entrance. Ralph, with a sheet of paper stretched out before him and
a pencil in his hand, was apparently sketching something. By his side
was Granet. The two girls with arms interlocked, were watching intently.

"You see," Ralph Conyers explained, drawing back for a moment to look at
the result of his labours, "this scheme, properly worked out, can keep
a channel route such as the Folkestone to Boulogne one, for instance,
perfectly safe. Those black marks are floats, and the nets--"

"One moment, Ralph," Thomson interrupted from the background.

They all started and turned their heads. Thomson drew a step nearer and
his hand fell upon the paper. There was a queer look in his face which
Geraldine was beginning to recognise.

"Ralph, old fellow," he said, "don't think me too much of an interfering
beggar, will you? I don't think even to your dearest friend, not to
the girl you are going to marry, to me, or to your own mother, would I
finish that little drawing and description, if I were you."

They all stared at him. Granet's face was expressionless, the girls were
bewildered, Ralph was frowning.

"Dash it all, Hugh," he expostulated, "do have a little common sense.
Here's a fellow like Granet, a keen soldier and one of the best, doing
all he can for us on land but a bit worried about our submarine danger.
Why shouldn't I try and reassure him, eh?--let him see that we've a few
little things up our sleeves?"

"That sounds all right, Ralph," Thomson agreed, "but you're departing
from a principle, and I wouldn