The meal over, all hands "squared off", airing clothes and bedding, and stowing everything away in a ship-shape fashion. This last had only just been completed when a boatman came alongside with a passenger, Mrs. Collinson.
"Your husband is sleeping well," replied Mr. Graham. "The doctor will be here at eleven."
"How did the accident happen?" inquired Mrs. Collinson.
The Scoutmaster had to admit his ignorance. For the third time, at least, during the last eight or nine hours that question had been put without anyone being able to give a satisfactory reply.
"I was very anxious until I had your telephone message," continued Mrs. Collinson. "My husband and I are yachting—or I ought to say, were yachting. Yesterday morning we brought up off Ryde and I went ashore for the day, my husband having arranged to come ashore for me at nine. I was on the pier before that time, but the Ocean Bride had disappeared. As the wind had increased I thought that he might have had to clear out of the exposed anchorage and make for either Portsmouth Harbour or Cowes. So I went to the Solent Hotel—where I had previously arranged to go should anything occur to prevent my returning on board—and rang up the Customs at both places. When I had a reply that the Ocean Bride had not put into either harbour, I did begin to feel anxious, because it was blowing hard and my husband was single-handed. Of course, there was the motor——"
"Was there a motor on board?" broke in the Scoutmaster. "We didn't notice it in the dark, and no one has been on board this morning. It might have saved us a fair amount of hard work."
Just then Ted Coles appeared.
"Mr. Collinson is awake, sir," he repeated, with a smart salute.
The Scoutmaster escorted Mrs. Collinson to the cabin, and left her with her husband. A few minutes later the dinghy returned with Dr. Baker.
The doctor's report was most satisfactory. The patient was going on well. His temperature was only one degree above normal, and there was very little pain in the injured limb.