"Your bath is ready, sir," he announced, "and Mr. Whittinghame presents his compliments and would you care to make use of this suit of clothes until you can get your luggage?"
Half an hour later Dacres, rigged out in a suit of his host's—which fitted him fairly well considering the slight difference in height—entered the diningroom, where breakfast was already served.
"Hope it's not too early for you," remarked Whittinghame after the customary morning greetings, "but the matter is urgent. One of my monoplanes will be ready for you at half-past eight. With luck you ought to be at the Admiralty soon after ten—that, I believe, is the usual hour at which the officials arrive preparatory to duty. All being well you should be back by noon. If, for any unforeseen cause, you are detained you might communicate with me."
"How?" asked Dacres; "by telegraph?"
Whittinghame shook his head.
"Too risky, in spite of the vaunted 'official reticence' of the Postmaster-General. No, there is another way—by wireless."
"By wireless?" echoed Dacres.
"Why not? The monoplane is fitted with an installation of the latest type, and Callaghan, who is to pilot you, is a skilled operator. You give him any message and he will transmit it in code."
"There was one thing I meant to ask you," said Dacres, in the course of the meal. "Have any persons attempted to trespass upon your property?"
"Yes, several," was the reply. "At first I had a lot of trouble with poachers, until I effectually scared them off. After that I had to deal with one or two members of Durango's gang."