“Very well, then,” she said, “you people had better get a strait-waistcoat ready for me.  If I didn’t see Craig there, I’m going off my head.”

Quest had disappeared some seconds ago.  He came thoughtfully back, a little later.

“Captain,” he asked, “what shall you say if I tell you that I have proof that Craig is on board?”

The Captain glanced at Laura and restrained himself.

“I should probably say a great many things which I should regret afterwards,” he replied grimly.

“Sit down and we’ll tell you what has happened in my room,” Quest continued.

He told the story, calmly and without remark.  The Captain held his head.

“Of course, I’m convinced that I am a sane man,” he said, “but this sounds more like a Munchausen story than anything I’ve ever heard.  I suppose you people are all real?  You are in earnest about this, aren’t you?  It isn’t a gigantic joke?”

“We are in deadly earnest,” the Professor pronounced gravely.

“I have been down to the pantry,” Quest went on.  “The porthole has been open all day.  It was just possible for a man to have reached the cups of bouillon as they were prepared.  That isn’t the point, however.  Craig is cunning and clever enough for any devilish scheme on earth, and that card proves that he is on board.”

“The ship shall be searched,” the Captain declared, “once more.  We’ll look into every crack and every cupboard.”

Lenora turned away with a little shiver.  It was one of her rare moments of weakness.

“You won’t find him!  You won’t ever find him!” she murmured.  “And I am afraid!”

Lenora grasped the rails of the steamer and glanced downwards at the great barge full of Arab sailors and merchandise.  In the near background were the docks of Port Said.  It was their first glimpse of Eastern atmosphere and colour.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am,” she declared to Quest, “to think that this voyage is over.  Every night I have gone to bed terrified.”

He smiled grimly.

“Things have been quiet enough the last few days,” he said.  “There’s Harris on this barge.  Look at Laura waving to him!”

The Scotland Yard man only glanced up at them.  He was occupied in leaning over towards Laura, who was on the deck below.

“If you said the word,” he called out, “I wouldn’t be going back, Miss Laura.  I’d stick to the ship fast enough.”

She laughed at him gaily.

“Not you!  You’re longing for your smoky old London already.  You cut it out, my friend.  You’re a good sort, and I hope we’ll meet again some day.  But—­”

She shook her head at him good-humouredly.  He turned away, disappointed, and waved his hand to Lenora and Quest on the upper deck.

“Coming on shore, any of you?” he enquired.

“We may when the boat moves up,” Quest replied.  “The Professor went off on the first barge.  Here he is, coming back.”