“Yes.  I should be sorry to miss that, for having only been just elected a member of the Squadron, I should like to put in an appearance at the first set dinner.”

“Of course, Frank.  I certainly should not like you to miss it.”

The next evening Frank went ashore to dine at the club.  An hour and a half later a yacht’s boat came off.

“I have a note for Miss Greendale,” the man in the stern said, as she came alongside; “I am to give it to her myself.”

Bertha was summoned, and, much surprised, came on deck.

The man handed up the note to her.  She took it into the companion, where a light was burning; her name and that of the yacht were in straggling handwriting that she scarcely recognised as Frank’s.

She tore it open.

“My Darling:  I have had a nasty accident, having been knocked down just as I landed.  I am at present at Dr. Maddison’s.  I wish you would come ashore at once.  It is nothing very serious, but if you did not see me you might think that it was.  Don’t agitate your mother, but bring Anna with you.  The boat that brings this note will take you ashore.”

Bertha gave a little gasp, and then summoning up her courage, ran down into the cabin.

“Mamma, dear, you must spare me and Anna for half an hour.  I have just had a note from Frank.  He has been knocked down and hurt.  He says that it is nothing very serious, and he only writes to me to come ashore so that I can assure myself.  I won’t stop more than a quarter of an hour.  If I find that he is worse than I expect, I will send Anna off to you with a message.”

Scarcely listening to what her mother said in reply, she ran into her cabin, told Anna to put on her hat and shawl to go ashore with her, and in a minute descended to the boat with her maid.  It was a four-oared gig, and the helmsman had taken his place in the stern behind them.

Bertha sat cold and still without speaking.  She was sure that Frank must be more seriously hurt than he had said, or he would have had himself taken off to the yacht instead of to the surgeon’s.  The shaky and almost illegible handwriting showed the difficulty he must have had in holding the pencil.

The boat made its way through the fleet till it reached the shallow water which they had to cross on their way to the shore.  Here, with the exception of a few small craft, the water was clear of yachts.

Suddenly the long line of lights along the shore disappeared, and something thick, heavy and soft fell over Bertha’s head.  An arm was thrown round her, and Anna pressed tightly against her.  In vain she struggled.  There was a faint, strange smell, and she lost consciousness.

An hour passed without her return to the yacht, and Lady Greendale began to fear that she had found Frank too ill to leave, and had forgotten to send Anna back with the message.  At last she touched the bell.

“Will you tell the captain that I want to speak to him?”