'Stop a second,' said Davies; 'give me two minutes.' He whipped out the German chart. 'Where exactly should we go?' ('Exactly!' The word tickled me hugely.)
'To the depôt, of course; it's our only chance.'
'Listen then—there are two routes: the outside one by the open sea, right round Juist, and doubling south—the simplest, but the longest; the depôt's at the south point of Memmert, and Memmert's nearly two miles long.'
'How far would that way be?'
'Sixteen miles good. And we should have to row in a breaking swell most of the way, close to land.'
'Out of the question; it's too public, too, if it clears. The steamer went that way, and will come back that way. We must go inside over the sands. Am I dreaming, though? Can you possibly find the way?'
'I shouldn't wonder. But I don't belie
