later the galley was spinning across the sparkling waters
of the harbour.

Once the Captain spoke, and the bowman moved his weight six inches
forward. Then she sailed to his light touch on the helm as a violin
gives out sound under the bow of a master.

Casey, sitting motionless on the bottom boards with the mainsheet in
his hands, gazed rapturously at the new mainsail, and thence into the
stolid countenance of the second stroke.

"Ain't she a _witch_?" he whispered.

For half an hour the galley skimmed to and fro among the anchored
fleet, now running free like a white-winged gull, anon close-hauled,
the razor bows cleaving a path through the dancing water in a little
sickle of creaming foam.

The Captain brought her alongside the gangway with faultless judgment
and stood up. Like Saul, he had taken the cares of high command to a
witch, and lo! his brow was clear and his eyes twinkled.

"Yes," he said in even tones as he stepped out of the boat, "that
mainsail sets all right," and ran briskly up the ladder two steps at a
time.

Casey thumbed the lacing on the yard. "Perfection is finality, and
finality is death."

"I don't know but what I wouldn't shift the strop '_arf_ an inch
aft--mebbe a quarter . . ."

Inboard the ship's bell struck eight times, and the boatswain's mate
began shrilly piping the hands to dinner.

[1] Anchor. The distinctive badge of a leading rating.

IV

THE SEVEN-BELL BOAT

The last answering pendant from the Fleet shot up above the bridge
rails, and the impatient semaphore on the Flagship's bridge commenced
waving its arms.

The Yeoman of the Watch in the second ship of the line steadied his
glass against an angle of the chart house. "'Ere y'are! Write down,
one 'and." A Signal-boy stepped to his elbow with a pad and pencil in
readiness.

"Flag--general: Leave may be granted to officers from 8.30 to 7 p.m.
Officers are not to leave the vicinity of the town, and are to be
prepared for immediate recall." He lowered the glass sharply.
"Finish. Down Answer!"

Obedient to the order, a Signal-man brought the long tail of bunting
down hand over hand. He hitched the slack of the halliard to the
bridge rail and puckered his eyes, staring across the waters of the
harbour to where the roofs of houses showed among the trees. "'Ow I
pities orficers!" he observed under his breath, and walked to the end
of the bridge.

The advertisement of a cinema theatre occupied a