art already. The
first remark he must make was, "Send the Captain to me at once." There
is no indication of riot or uproar at this. Evidently the Captain is
brought without the slightest difficulty, for in the very next line
we find Prior saying, "_Etes-vous le Capitaine?_" and he goes on to
inquire about his berth.

The Captain tells him everything there is to know about berths
and then apparently offers to take down his luggage, for Prior is
commanding, "Take care of my carpet-bag, if you please."

They then begin to discuss the weather. "In what quarter is the wind?"
asks the indefatigable Prior.

"The wind," says the Captain, "is in the north, in the south, in the
east, in the south-west. It will be a rough passage. It will be very
calm."

Prior does not seem to observe that the Captain appears to be hedging.
This wealth of information even pleases him, and then quite abruptly
he demands, "_Donnez-moi une couverture,_" because, as he goes on
to explain, he "feels very sick." This gives the "Capitaine" an
opportunity to escape. He says, "I will send the munitionnaire."

Undoubtedly that Captain has a sense of the ridiculous. I like the
man. Anyone who could, on the spur of the moment, describe the
steward as the munitionnaire deserves to rank as one of the world's
humourists. But Prior is apparently in no condition to see a joke. He
says he will have the munitionnaire instantly bringing in his hand
"_un verre d'eau de vie._"

I was really sorry that in the bustle of embarking I lost sight of
Prior and therefore could not witness the meeting between him and the
Captain. It would have made me happy for the whole day.

The crossing was prolonged, for we took a zig-zag course to avoid any
little remembrances Fritz might have left us in the form of mines.
When we were nearing land I saw Prior again. He was stretched out on
a deck-chair and looked up with a ghastly smile as he caught sight of
me.

"Hullo, you're alone!" I said rather cruelly. "Is this the stage where
the Captain goes to find the munitionnaire?"

Then he spoke, but it was not in the words of the phrase-book. It was
in clear, concise, unmistakable English.

"Can you tell me," he asked, and behind his words lay a suggestion
of quiet force of despair, "about what hour of the day or night this
cursed boat is likely to get to Boolong?"

* * * * *

"Evens are moving rapidly in connection with the plan by
the