As we emerged on to the saltings Christine slipped lightly to her feet.
We could see the launch lying out in the tideway, and a dark figure, silhouetted sharply against the water, standing on guard over a small dinghy.
"There's Jenkins!" said Bobby, in a relieved whisper.
At the sound of his voice the sailor wheeled round quickly; and then, seeing us advancing across the grass, drew himself up to the salute.
"Anything happened?" enquired Bobby.
"All quiet, sir," came the curt answer.
"In you get," continued Bobby, motioning us towards the dinghy.
He turned to Jenkins, who was moving away to unhitch the painter.
"We've got to catch that launch, Jenkins," he said, "the one we saw coming out from the opposite shore. She's making for Rotterdam, and no matter if we break the blasted engines we're going to overhaul her before she gets there."
"Very good, sir," returned Jenkins indifferently.