All the time the young man had been speaking, his eyes had been
studying his face. He turned now once more to his map.

"It was my idea," he said, "to hire a steam trawler from Yarmouth.
If I do so, you can, if you wish, accompany me so far as the port
at which we may land in Holland. On the other hand, to be perfectly
frank with you, I should prefer to go alone. There will be, no
doubt, a certain amount of risk in crossing to-night. My own business
is of importance. A golf tournament, however, is scarcely worth
risking your life for, is it?"

"Oh, I don't know about that!" the young man replied grimly. "I
fancy I should rather like it. Let's see whether we can get on to
Norwich, anyhow, shall we? We may find that there are bridges down
on that line."

They relapsed once more into silence. Presently the guard
reappeared.

"Instructions to take you on to Yarmouth, if possible, sir," he
announced, "and to collect the mileage at our destination."

"That will be quite satisfactory," Mr. Dunster agreed. "Let us be
off, then, as soon as possible." Presently they crawled on. They
passed the boat train in Ipswich Station, where they stayed for a
few moments. Mr. Dunster bought wine and sandwiches, and his
companion followed his example. Then they continued their journey.
An hour or more passed; the storm showed no signs of abatement.
Their speed now rarely exceeded ten or fifteen miles an hour. Mr.
Dunster smoked all the time, occasionally rubbing the window-pane