"I may say that we later determined in the daylight that it was practically invisible from the adjacent waters, and the hasty investigation I was able to make on my own behalf leads me to the provisional conclusion that we have stumbled upon a genuine archæological find. The ancient Byzantium, as you doubtless know, was a city vying with our modern capitals in comfort and hygienic convenience, and its drainage system must have been—"
"Yes, yes, Daddy," interrupted Betty, "but you are telling about last night, not the ancient Byzants."
"Byzantines, my dear," corrected her father. "The Byzant was the standard coin of value of the Eastern Empire, indeed, of the known world."
"A thousand pardons, old sweetheart, but still, don't you see, you've left the boys high and dry? Here, you'd better let me carry on."
"Very well," answered King with the docility acquired by any man who spends much time in Betty's company. "Perhaps your narrative gifts will secure a more rapid description of our adventures, Elizabeth."
"It's not my 'narrative gifts,' darling Dad. It's that I can stick to the path. You see, boys, I heard Watkins squawk when he fell. The only reason Toutou and his friends didn't hear him was that they were so busy with you. I left the boat and scrambled over the rocks—nearly scared Dad to death. He thought I was an enemy. Watkins had disappeared into this opening. He had slid over the rock-pile that fills it to within three or four feet of the top, and he bumped his head badly. He thought he was in a cave, and I made Dad get in after him and look around with a flashlight. So long as the rope and grapnel had come down, there was no way for Toutou's gang to trace us, and I was wondering whether we couldn't make future use of a hiding-place almost in the enemy's camp."
"I say, that was clever of you!" said Hugh admiringly.
We all chuckled, but Betty thanked him with a smile.
"Oh, I was a little heroine," she continued. "No movie heroine could have surpassed me. Dad took a look, and announced that it was one of the old sewers, and seemed to run inland beneath Tokalji's house. He wanted to follow it all the way in, but I decided there would be no opportunity for a rescue that night, and I made him and Watkins come back to the Curlew with me. We ran the launch to the wharf of a Greek fisherman I know on the Asiatic shore of the Marmora. He agreed to take us up to Constantinople in his boat, and to wait there for us all day to carry us back.
"We discussed the problem going up to Constantinople, and we couldn't think of anything to do for you, short of going in ourselves and setting you free. We didn't know how to get into touch with Nikka's uncle and his Gypsy friends. Manifestly, we didn't want to tell the police or the British authorities—although we would have done that if we had been unable to get to you to-night. Watkins said that 'treasure or no treasure 'e wasn't going to see 'is ludship butchered like 'is uncle, whatever 'is ludship might say any time.' Oh, Watkins was lyrical, Hugh."