"Our wounds are slight," he protested. "I have come for my sister, Thelma Everest, and her friend, Mademoiselle Résimont—if they can be spared," he added, for the sight of this woman calmly on duty caused him to take a different view of the reason lot his sister's presence in the hospital.
"They can be spared," replied the nurse. "Already we have sent the least serious cases away, and have dismissed the younger nurses. Mademoiselle Everest and her friend refused to take advantage of the permission. They were expecting you, and you have not failed them, I see. I will inform them."
Quickly Thelma and Yvonne appeared, heavily cloaked, and carrying handbags, in readiness for their flight.
"We would not have gone, Kenneth," said his sister, "only there is no more work for us to do. But is it not already too late to leave the city? We were told that the bridge of boats had been destroyed, and that all communication with outside is interrupted. Four of our nurses left by the last train that got away from here."
"We'll manage that all right," declared Kenneth stoutly, although in his mind he dreaded taking the girls on the journey along the shell-endangered streets.
"We are ready," said Thelma simply; then, having taken a hasty yet tender farewell of the head nursing sister, the girls accompanied the two lads into the now deserted thoroughfare.
Unhurt, although several highly-charged projectiles burst above the roofs on either side of the road, the four refugees gained the boat-house of the late spy. No more shells had fallen there in the interval. The boat had made but half an inch of water, and this could easily be got under by means of the pump. The fuel tanks were filled with petrol; there were a dozen intact tins in the after locker.
For provisions each lad had a couple of long rolls of bread in his haversack. Thelma had brought biscuits and butter; Yvonne had provided a tin of ground coffee and condensed milk—a meagre fare on which to essay a voyage across the North Sea, but enough to hazard the journey without fear of actual starvation.
Kenneth was by no means a novice in seamanship, On more than one vacation he had spent part of the time in motor-boating in Southampton Water, where a cousin of his kept a high-powered craft. After very little delay he succeeded in finding the position of the various switches and taps. At the third attempt the engine fired. The propeller blades, set at the neutral, churned the water. The motor purred rhythmically, as a well-conducted motor should.
"Cast off there, for'ard!" ordered Kenneth, addressing Rollo, who had taken up his post in the bows. "Thelma, undo that rope, quickly now!"