When police and fishermen strained their eyes and could see no trace of the chauffeur they naturally assumed he had been caught in the car.
"He has killed himself!" the sergeant cried.
"He was mad!" said another.
Anthony Trent had no difficulty in freeing himself from the sinking Lion. It was his wish to swim under water as far as possible and so elude those who watched for him in the faint light.
There was a strong current running and the destroyer lay a couple of cable lengths distant. It was a hard swim, clothes encumbered as he was, and he dare not discard the garment that held the paper. There was a despairing moment when he thought he could never make headway against the tide which would take him back into the harbor.
It was an astonished marine who saw the dripping exhausted man clamber aboard and fall to the deck.
"I must see your commander at once," Trent cried, when his breathing was easier.
Lieutenant Maitland awaked from his sleep was not inclined to see him.
"What's he like and the devil is it all about?" he demanded crossly.
"He's about knocked out," the marine answered, "and he says he won't tell his business to anyone but you."