"The Farlows are smart men," he observed presently, obviously following out his train of thought aloud. "The old man is something unusual in the way of a shipmaster. One doesn't associate these shipping princes with real understanding of naval force. But once or twice yesterday I thought there were things he could teach me."
"Yes."
Sir Joseph was intent upon the movements of the cruiser. She had displayed no lights and the dusk was creeping on.
"I suppose it is the old man who is the genius of Dorby. What about young Ruxton? Harborough is keen on him. So is Lordburgh. I confess to a weakness that way myself. That was a great stroke of his, getting the secrets of that place in the Baltic. Apparently there's some one also who shares your faith in—underwater."
Sir Reginald had become absorbed in the horizon. He produced a pair of glasses and peered out in the gathering gloom.
"All far-seeing people do. These Farlows for instance," he replied. "What's that beyond the cruiser? She's low in the water."
Sir Joseph produced glasses. For some silent minutes they remained scouring the sea with eyes long trained to the work. Finally it was Sir Joseph who spoke.
"You should recognize it," he said.
"Yes. Underwater, and—a foreigner."
They relapsed into a long silence. The stars came out and a light frost was settling upon the moor. The air was brilliantly clear. Their glasses revealed the two distant objects.