might have stopped, certainly," said his chief officer; "but the
point is, if you'd been on your right course you wouldn't have hit
anything."

"Oh, indeed! Oh, indeed!" said the captain.

"Yes, oh, indeed. You won't maintain you were on the right course, I
suppose."

"I maintain nothing," snapped the captain. "I'll merely trouble you to
ask the man at the wheel what course he was making when we were run into
by one of those infernal, careless naval officers who think they know
everything, like you. And after that I'll merely invite you to mind your
own business."

"Mind my own business!" repeated Mr. Spokesly in a daze.

"And I'll mind mine," added the captain after a dramatic pause, and
turning on his heel.

"You're like some bally old woman," began Mr. Spokesly, "with your nag,
nag, nag. I don't wonder that Maltee mate used to go for you."

"Ask the man at the wheel what course he was steering," repeated the
captain distinctly, coming back out of the gloom and wheeling away
again.

"I'll be going for you myself before this trip is over," added the mate.

"And then kindly leave the bridge," concluded the captain, reappearing
once more, as though emerging suddenly from the wings of a theatre and
declaiming a speech in a play. Having declaimed it, however, he
retreated with singular precipitancy.

"I must say, I've been with a few commanders in my time," Mr. Spokesly
began in a general way. He heard his captain's voice out of the dark
opining that he had no doubt every one of those commanders was glad
enough to get rid of him. He could easily believe that.

"Perhaps they were," agreed Mr. Spokesly. "Perhaps they were. The point
is, even supposing that was the case, they never made me want to throw
them over the side."

The voice came out of the darkness again, commenting upon Mr. Spokesly's
extreme forbearance.

"Don't drive me too far," he warned.

The voice said all Mr. Spokesly had to do was remove himself and come on
the bridge when he was sent for. No driving was intended.

"Ah, you talk very well, captain. I'm only wondering whether you'll talk
half so well at the Inquiry."

The voice asked, what inquiry? with a titter.

"There's always an inquiry, somewhere, sometime," said Mr. Spokesly,
dully, wondering what he himself would have to say, for that matter. He
heard the voice enunciate with a certain lisping exactitude, "Not yet."

"Oh, no, not yet. When the war's won, let's say," he replied