’It was that same year, 1910, that he found coal on his land, and applied for a concession to work it.  The Turks liked him.  They’d have given it him like a shot.  But the Germans got behind his back, and did him down.  The end was that they refused to let him work his coal.

’Of course he was awfully sick, but not half so sick as when a German named Henkel came along and offered to buy him out at about half the price he had originally paid for the place.

’Father had a pretty hot temper, there was a flaming row, and Henkel went off, vowing vengeance.

’He got it, too.  A couple of years later, came the big row in the Balkans, and the war had hardly started before dad was arrested as a spy.’

‘Henkel did that?’ put in Burney.

‘Henkel did it;’ young Carrington’s voice was very grim.  ’Pretty thoroughly too, as I heard afterwards.  They took him to Constantinople, and—­and I’ve never seen him since.’

There was silence for some moments while the big ship ploughed steadily north-eastwards through the night.

‘And you?’ said Burney at last.

’I—­I’d have shared the same fate if it hadn’t been for old Othman Pasha.  He was a pal of ours, as white a man as you want to meet, and he got me away and over the border into Greece.  It was in Thrace that I saw fighting.  I came right through it, and got mixed up in two pretty stiff skirmishes.’

‘My word, you’ve seen something!’ said Burney.  ’And—­and, by Jove, I suppose you understand the language.’

‘Yes,’ said Carrington quietly.  ’I know the language and the people.  And you can take it from me that the Turks are not as black as they’re painted.  It’s Enver Bey and his crazy crowd who have rushed them into this business.  Three-quarters of ’em hate the war, and infinitely prefer the Britisher to the Deutscher.’

‘And how do you come to be in with us?’ asked Burney.

‘I joined up in Egypt,’ Carrington answered.  ’I went there two years ago and got a job in the irrigation department.  I’ve been there ever since.’

Again there was a pause.

‘And what about Henkel?’ asked Burney.  ‘Have you ever heard of him since?’

’Not a word.  But’—­Ken’s voice dropped a tone—­’I mean to.  If he’s alive I’ll find him, and—­’

He stopped abruptly, and suddenly gripped Burney’s arm.

‘There’s some one listening,’ he whispered.  ’I heard some one behind that boat.  No, stay where you are.  If we both move, he’ll smell a rat.’

‘Well, good-night, Dave,’ he said aloud.  ‘I must be getting below.’

Turning, he walked away in the direction opposite to that of the boat, but as soon as he thought he was out of sight in the darkness, he turned swiftly across the deck and made a wide circle.

He heard a rustle, and was just in time to see a dark figure dart forward, the feet evidently shod in rubber soles which moved soundlessly over the deck.