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Updated: July 16, 2025
Sir Meyville Worth stood with his eyes fixed upon his daughter and an expression of blank, uncomprehending dismay in his features. Granet, a frown upon his forehead, was looking towards the floor. Thomson, with the air of seeing nobody, was studying them all in turn. It was he who spoke first. "As you justly remark, Miss Worth," he observed, "this sort of thing has been done before.
"It's just what they were waiting for," the other replied. "What about this afternoon?" "I am not scientist, worse luck," Granet replied impatiently, "but I saw enough to convince me that they've got the right idea. Sir Meyville thought I was the man commanding the escort they've given him, actually rowed me out to the workshop and showed me the whole thing.
"There are at least two sentries that way," he said, "and if Sir Meyville told me the truth, they may have a special guard of Marines out to-night. This is where we take to the marshes. Listen. Can you hear anything?" They both held their breath. "Nothing yet," Collins muttered. "Let's get the things out quickly." Granet hurried to the back of the car, ripping open the coverings.
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