"Yes,
they've hoisted the Blue Peter. I wonder--the boats are coming in,
too."

"Does that mean you must go at once?"

He nodded soberly. "I'm afraid so," and held out his hand. "Good-bye."

"Hallo!" said Joe. "I say, you're not off, are you? What's up?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," was the reply. "I believe it's
another of their dodges to lure me inside my turret. Good-bye, Miss
Betty. Don't forget to read up the book of the words--in case of
complications. . . . Good-bye!" The Indiarubber Man departed down one
of the steep paths that led to the lower road and the landing-place.
The brother and sister turned and walked slowly back to the house.

Their conversation on the way was confined to speculation on the part
of Joe as to the reason for this sudden recall. His theories covered a
wide range of possibilities. Only when they reached the house did
Betty volunteer a remark, and then in the privacy of her own room,
whose window looked out across the harbour and the sea.

"Oh, I hate the War," she said. "I hate it, I _hate_ it. . . ."

[1] Paying calls.

V

THE KING'S PARDON

Ask the first thousand bluejackets you meet ashore, any afternoon the
Fleet is giving leave, why they joined the navy. Nine hundred and
ninety-nine will eye you suspiciously, awaiting the inevitable tract. If
none is forthcoming they will give a short, grim laugh, shake their
heads, and, as likely as not, expectorate. These portents may be taken
to imply that they really do not know themselves, or are too shy to say
so, if they do.

The thousandth does not laugh. He may shake his head; spit he certainly
will. And then, scenting silent sympathy, he guides you to a quiet
bar-parlour where you can pay for his beer while he talks.

This is the man with a past and a grievance.

* * * * *

Nosey Baines, Stoker Second-class, was a man with a past. He also owned
a grievance when he presented himself for entry into His Majesty's Navy.
They were about his only possessions.

"Nosey" was not, of course, his strict baptismal name. That was
Orson--no less. Therein lay the past. "Nosey" was the result of facial
peculiarities quite beyond his control. His nose was out of proportion
to the remainder of his features. This system of nomenclature survives
from the Stone Age, and, sailors being conservative folk, still finds
favour on the lower-decks of H.M. Ships and Vessels.

The