“Aren’t you at all uneasy?” asked Hennessy.

“If I am,” proposed the shipbuilder, “I’m going to cure my mental unrest with luncheon.  Won’t you join us, Mr. Hennessy?”

If appetite were any guide, none of the submarine people felt the slightest uneasiness as to information that the sprightly Mlle. Nadiboff might be able to coax from Captain Jack while on that auto drive.

By the time that the quartette came out again, however, Farnum began to look bothered.

“After two,” he declared, “and Jack not here.  Now, at three o’clock, I’ve agreed to take out a party of naval officers from the gunboat.  We want to show those Navy fellows some of our prettiest work in the ‘Benson.’”

“It looks as though your young captain is finding his companion so pleasant that he forgets to look frequently at his watch,” suggested the reporter, slyly.

“Jack Benson doesn’t know anything about the three o’clock appointment,” replied Mr. Farnum.

“If he isn’t here in season,” put in quiet Hal, “it won’t cause us any real trouble, anyway.  Those of us who will be on hand can manage the boat through any ordinary trial or trip.”

Eph was very silent—­for him.  After fifteen more minutes had gone by young Somers sauntered out into the road, where he could command a long view in the direction in which he would naturally look for Jack’s approach in Mlle. Nadiboff’s car.

After some ten minutes Eph Somers came running up the roadway.

“It’s all right,” he announced.  “The car is coming.”

In hardly a minute more the car rolled up to the veranda, and stopped.  Mlle. Nadiboff, catching sight of the little party, smiled and nodded graciously as she stepped to the veranda.

“Where’s Captain Benson?” inquired Hal, starting toward her.

“Captain Benson?” repeated Mlle. Nadiboff, looking a trifle surprised.  “Hasn’t he returned?”

“Not yet,” Hal Hastings answered her, his gaze fixed steadily on the young woman’s face.  “How could he return ahead of your car, Mademoiselle?”

“Why, he left me more than half an hour ago, and within two miles of here,” replied the young woman, easily.  “I proposed going to another hotel, a few miles from here, for luncheon.  So he asked me to put him down, saying he would walk in.  That was not more than two miles from here, was it, Gaston?”

“Much less than two miles,” replied the chauffeur.

“And he hasn’t returned?” queried Mlle. Nadiboff, looking mildly curious.

“He has not yet come,” Hal replied.

“Then he must be a slow walker, or—­but will you take my car and go back to look for him?  Will take you to the spot where your young captain left us on foot?”

Hal Hastings’s first impulse was to accept the offer of the car.  Yet Mlle. Nadiboff’s acting was so perfect, her air so unconcerned save for mild curiosity, that any suspicion Hal may have felt for a second or two was quickly banished.