 I fancy we must be very close to Port Gretchen, even if we haven't reached it already. My dear Harry, if this were Port Gretchen, we should find traces of our footsteps, or at least some signs that we have been here. But there's nothing. Nothing. Just a moment. I can see something. Yes, I was right after all, Uncle. And what have you found? Oh, a rusty old dagger. Why did you bring that thing with you? That's no good. It's no good at all. I've never set eyes on it before.