"Oh, we received word from the harbourmaster that she had been brought in by a destroyer, and we immediately sent down a couple of tenders with trailers and brought her on here this morning. Good-bye. The fellows here are all anxious to meet you."
"Good-bye, sir."
As soon as he had rung off Dastral rushed back into the room to tell Jock all about his chat with the O.C. of the Squadron at St. Champau, and especially about the two days' extra leave.
"Good!" ejaculated his friend. "Seems a decent sort of chap, eh?"
"Rather a sport, I should say, old man."
"Capital. That little affair of ours yesterday seems to have done us no harm. It'll probably give us a good entree into the new mess. Hope they're all decent fellows there."
So they spent half the morning resting after their exciting adventures of the previous day, and reading the papers, some of which gave censored accounts of the event. The two days passed all too quickly, and on the third morning they were both awakened just before dawn by the rep-r-r-r of a motor bicycle, which pulled up sharply outside the hotel.
It was "Brat" the despatch rider of the -- Squadron, who had come post haste from Major Bulford, with an urgent message which ran as follows:--
"To Lieutenant Dastral, D.S.O.,
"Hotel de l'Europe,