"If I had to ride a push-bike out here," declared Warkworth, "I'd barge into everything, 'cause I'd simply have to keep to the left. And don't the motors look weird with the left-hand drive?"
The journey was over only too soon, for in less than ten minutes from the time the car left the shipyard, Monsieur Raoul pulled up outside a large house standing in extensive grounds that sloped towards the river.
"There is your tent," he said, pointing to a fairly spacious marquee pitched on high ground about two hundred yards from the house. "I telephoned to my steward to have it pitched at once. But first let us have dinner."
Somewhat awed, the Sea Scouts filed into a big, gorgeously furnished room, where they were introduced to Madame de la Voie and Madame Ledoux, Raoul's belle-mère.
Dignified-looking men-servants handed round the various courses, the nature of most of the dishes being utterly strange to the Sea Scouts. But even their unfounded misgivings failed to blunt their keen appetites. Stolidly, and almost in silence, they applied themselves to the food, while Mr. Armitage chatted to his host and hostess.
When at length the Sea Scouts proceeded to their shore sleeping-quarters, they found that there was a camp-bed provided for each of the crew, and that their kit had been stacked ready for their use.
"We've fallen on our feet," declared Woodleigh, as he turned in.
"You speak for yourself, young fellah-me-lad!" rejoined Roche. "It isn't usual to fall on your feet when you sleep. This is the proper way—on one's side."
Deftly Dick dived between the sheets; the camp-bed tilted sideways, and the next instant Roche was lying on the grassy floor of the tent.
Shrieks of laughter arose from his companions, even Mr. Armitage joining in the mirth at the expense of the discomfited exponent of the art of "turning in". Without a word Roche picked up his blankets and remade the bed, then, exercising great caution, he got in again.