As her father approached with his two companions, Ada started the motor of the tiny boat; it was powered by a small solar panel, and was barely able to match their leisurely walking pace. She did not head directly toward them, as Bradley had expected, but steered the boat along the central axis of the main lake, and through the narrow isthmus connecting it to its smaller satellite. This was quickly crossed, and the boat entered the third and smallest lake of all. Though it was now only a few meters away from them, Bradley could hear no sound from its motor. His engineer's soul approved of such efficiency.

"Ada," said Donald, calling across the rapidly diminishing expanse of water. "This is the visitor I told you about - Mr. Bradley. He's going to help us raise the Titanic. "

Ada, now preparing to enter the harbour, merely acknowledged his presence with a brief nod. The final lake - really no more than a small pond that would be overcrowded by a dozen ducks - was connected to a boathouse by a long, narrow canal. It was perfectly straight, and Bradley realized that it lay precisely along the central axis of the three conjoined lakes. All this was obviously planned, though for what purpose he could not imagine. From the quizzical smile on Patrick's face, he guessed that the old gardener was enjoying his perplexity.

The canal was bordered on either side by beautiful cypress trees, more than twenty metres high; it was, Bradley thought, like a miniature version of the approach to the Taj Mahal. He had only seen that masterpiece briefly, years ago, but had never forgotten its splendid vista.

"You see, Pat, they're all doing fine - in spite of what you said," Donald told the head gardener.
Patrick pursed his lips and looked critically at the line of trees. He pointed to several which, to Bradley's eyes, appeared indistinguishable from the rest.

"Those may have to be replanted," he said. "Don't say I didn't warn you - and the Missus."
They had now reached the boathouse at the end of the tree-lined canal, and waited for Ada to complete her leisurely approach. When she was only a meter away, there was a sudden hysterical yelp and something closely resembling a small floor mop leaped out of the boat and hurled itself at Bradley's feet.
"If you don't move," said Donald, "she may decide you're harmless, and let you live."

While the tiny Cairn terrier was sniffing suspiciously at his shoes, Bradley examined her mistress. He noticed, with approval, the careful way that Ada tied up the boat, even though that was quite unnecessary; she was, he could already tell, an extremely well-organized young lady - quite a contrast to her hysterical little pet, who had switched instantly to fawning affection.

Ada scooped up Lady with one hand, and hugged the puppy to her breast while she regarded Bradley with a look of frank curiosity.

"Are you really going to help us raise the Titanic ?" she asked.

Bradley shifted uncomfortably and avoided returning that disconcerting stare.

"I hope so," he said evasively. "But there are lots of things we have to talk over first." And this, he added silently, is neither the time nor the place. He would have to wait until they had joined Mrs. Craig, and he was not altogether looking forward to the encounter.

"What were you reading in the boat, Ada?" he asked lightly, trying to change the subject.