We need only wait till daylight to find you walking in a circle."
"You can't mean," Lanyard pursued, learning something helpful every moment, "there is no communicating road?"
"The main woods road, yes: but that is far too well patrolled. Without the countersign, you would be caught or shot a dozen times before you reached the end of it."
"Ah, well!"—with the sigh of a philosopher—"then I presume there's no way out but by swimming."
"Over to the beach you mean? Well, what then? You have got a twenty-mile walk either way through deep sand sure to betray your footprints. At dawn we follow and bag you at our leisure."
"You are discouraging!" Lanyard complained. "I see I may as well go below and be good. It's a dull life."
"Tell you what," giggled the lieutenant, leading his prisoner to the conning-tower hatch and lowering his voice: "do just that, go below and be nice, and presently I will come back and we'll split a bottle. What do you say to that, eh?"
"Colossal!"
"Not a bad notion, is it? I like it myself. One gets weary for the society of a gentleman, you've no idea. … As soon as my commander is drunk enough, I will slip away. How's that?"
"Grossartig!" Lanyard approved, turning to descend.
"Wait. You shall see for yourself what it means to have the friendship of a man of my stamp." The lieutenant raised his voice, addressing the anchor watch:
