But not even now did he despair. Beyond the vacant horse-boxes was a small opening in the wall—a hatch through which the stable refuse was forked out. This hatch, he knew, was fastened only on the inside by a hook and staple. In a moment he had flung it open, to climb out without further hindrances and make his way among the fruit trees and across the tennis lawn to the back gate of the Sunnydene property, and into the Alderwick road.
Five minutes after his escape, he was at home in his father's library, sending his report by telephone to the naval base.
His father, Major Redisham, had gone off to join his regiment, and the family supper was in consequence a melancholy meal. Mark said nothing of his visit to Sunnydene; but he was at liberty to tell his mother and sisters of the exciting events of the day—the loss of the What's Wanted, the sinking of the German mine-layer, and the terrible disaster to the Atreus.
"So you see," he concluded, "Rod was present at the firing of the first naval gun of the war!"
"Yes," said his mother; "but unfortunately Rodney's ship cannot be replaced, or the brave men who went down with her. He may not get another appointment for a long time. Is he coming home to-night, Mark?"
Mark shook his head.
"No, mother," he answered. "He was kept aboard the destroyer—the Levity. The whole flotilla went off to sea again as soon as the wounded were put ashore for hospital."
"I suppose they've gone to join the main fleet," his sister Vera conjectured. "Of course, the German battleships are out, and there'll be a great battle."
"The destroyers went south, however," Mark explained, "and the enemy fleet is much more likely to be hanging round off the Dogger Bank than down there in the narrow seas. It's my idea that the destroyers have gone into the Channel."
"Why?" questioned Vera. "What's the good of their going into the Channel when the Germans are in the North Sea? We want to fight them, don't we?"