en struggle on board. Certain officers, the more helpless
subalterns among us, are detailed for duty on the voyage. They parade
on the upper deck. To them at least the A.M.L.O. can still speak with
authority. He explains to the bewildered youths what their duties
are. Each passenger, so it appears, must wear a life-belt. It is the
business of the subalterns to see that every one ties round his chest
one of those bandoliers of cork.

On the leave boat the spirit of democracy is triumphant. Sergeants
jostle commissioned officers. Subalterns seize deck chairs desired by
colonels of terrific dignity. Privates with muddy trousers crowd the
sofas of the first-class saloon. Discipline we may suppose survives.
If peril threatened, men would fall into their proper places and
words of command would be obeyed. But the outward forms of discipline
are for a time in abeyance. The spirit of goodfellowship prevails.
The common joy--an intensified form of the feeling of the schoolboy
on the first day of the Christmas holidays--makes one family of all
ranks and ages.

No doubt also the sea insists on the recognition of new standards of
worth. The humblest private who is not seasick is visibly and
unmistakably a better man than a field-marshal with his head over the
bulwarks. Curious and ill-assorted groups are formed. Men who at
other times would not speak to each other are drawn and even squeezed
together by the pressure of circumstance.

Between two of the deckhouses on the lower deck of this steamer is a
narrow passage. Porters have packed valises and other luggage into
it. It is sheltered from the rain and will be secure from showers of
flying spray. Careless and inexperienced travellers, searching along
the crowded decks for somewhere to sit down, pass this place by
unnoticed. Others, accustomed in old days to luxurious travelling,
scorn it and seek for comfort which they never find.

I come on this nook by accident; and at once perceive its value as a
place of shelter and refuge. I sit down on the deck with my haversack
beside me. I wedge myself securely, my feet against one side of the
passage, my back against the other. I tuck my waterproof round me and
feel that I may defy fate to do its worst.

A few others drift into the refuge, or are pressed in by the crowd
outside. The Canadian sister, a competent young woman, has found her
way here and settled down her helpless V.A.D. on a valise--a lumpy,
uncomfortable seat. A priva