"It will mean at least twenty minutes' delay," muttered the motorist savagely, as he turned away. "Come on, Mr. Trefusis, let's try our luck across the way."
As Ross descended the short flight of stone steps leading from the lobby to the street, he nearly cannoned into a couple of naval officers who were about to enter the building. Suddenly remembering that he was in uniform, the midshipman brought his right hand smartly to the peak of his cap. As he did so, he recognized that one of the naval men was his father.
The recognition was mutual.
"Hullo, pater!"
"Hullo, Ross! What brings you here? Duty, eh? It's the same in my case. Sorry I can't have you to lunch, but must catch the first train north. This is the first time I've come up to town since the war started. In any case I'm not sorry that I am not stopping the night here. Judging by reports, it's a jolly sight too dangerous for me. Don't fancy being run over by a taxi in a dark main thoroughfare. Give me the North Sea any day. Well, I must be moving. Can't keep My Lords waiting, you know. Good-bye, Ross!"
It was Admiral Paul Trefusis' way. Whenever he had any business on hand that kept him from his ship, he invariably spoke in short, jerky sentences. Ross knew his parent's little mannerism.
"One moment, pater," he exclaimed. "We're in an awful hurry too——"
"Don't look like it," growled the Admiral good-naturedly. "You were ambling out like an old shellback. Always execute orders at the double: that's my advice to budding midshipmen. Well, what is it?"
As briefly as possible, Ross told his parent of the rebuff Mr. Hyde and he had received, and of the matter that brought them at 50 miles an hour from a remote Sussex coast-guard station.
Making a hurried excuse to his companion, the Admiral skipped up the steps into the lobby, Ross and his fellow-traveller following closely.