ging beam seas, the throb of the propellers, and the pussy-cat purr
of the spinning turbines--these were the fit accompaniment to which
Melton A.B. recited to me the epic of the _Firebrand_ at Jutland.

The cocoa I quaffed mug for mug with Melton, down to the last of the
sweet, sustaining "settlings" in the bottom of the pot; but the candy I
kept in reserve to draw on from time to time as it was needed to
lubricate his tongue and stoke the smouldering fires of his memory. I
started him off with a red-and-white "barber's pole" stick, which took
not a little fumbling with mittened hands to extract from its greased
tissue paper wrapper, and the seductive fragrance of crunched peppermint
mingled with the acrid fumes of burning petroleum as he leaned close and
began to tell how the ----th Flotilla, to which the _Firebrand_
belonged, screening the ----th B.S. of the Battle Fleet, came upon the
scene toward the end of the long summer afternoon. He had witnessed
Beatty's consummate manoeuvre of "crossing the T" of the enemy line
with the four that remained of his battered First Battle Cruiser
Squadron, and he had seen the main Battle Fleet baulked of its action
the lowering mists and the closing in of darkness; but it was not until
full night had clapped down its lid that the fun for the _Firebrand_
really began.

"It was just 'twixt daylight an' dark," he said, reaching me a steadying
hand in the darkness as the _Flyer_ teetered giddily down the back of a
receding sea, "that the flotilla dropped back to take stashun 'stern the
battl'ships we was screenin'. The _Killarney_ was leadin' an' after her
came the _Firebran'_, _Seagull_, _Wreath_, an' _Consort_, makin' up the
First Divishun. _Wreath_ an' _Consort_ sighted some Hun U-boats and
'stroyers while this move was on, an' plunk'd off a few shots at 'em.
Don't think wi' any fatal consequence. Then there come the rattle of
light gun fire from the south'ard, like from cru'sers or battleships
repellin' T.B.D.'s. Then it was all serene for mor'n an 'our, an' then
all hell opens up."

I suspected, from the sounds he made, that Melton had bitten into a
block of milk chocolate without removing its wrapping of foil and paper,
but presently his enunciation grew less explosive and more intelligible.

"It was Hun cru'sers drivin' down on us from the starboard quarter that
started the monkey-show," he said, "an' that bein' the nor'west it was
hardly where we'd reason to expect 'em from.