nskilled
hands. The sense of uneasiness deepened as he approached the table and
stood, with his head on one side, looking at it.

He turned at the sound of a light shuffling step in the kitchen. The
door opened gently and the head of Mr. Truefitt was slowly inserted.
Glimpses of a shirt and trousers, and the rumpled condition of the
intruder's hair, suggested that he had newly risen from bed.

"I heard you come in," he said, in a stealthy whisper.

[Illustration: I heard you come in, he said, in a stealthy whisper 166]

"Yes?" said the captain.

"There was no address on it," said Mr. Truefitt, indicating the parcel
by a nod; "it was left by somebody while we were out, and on opening
it we found it was for you. At least, partly. I thought I ought to tell
you."

"It don't matter," said the captain, with an effort.

Mr. Truefitt nodded again. "I only wanted to explain how it was," he
said. "Good-night."

He closed the door behind him, and the captain, after eying the parcel
for some time, drew a clasp-knife from his pocket and with trembling
fingers cut the string and stripped off the paper. The glistening
metal of the largest electro-plated salad-bowl he had ever seen met his
horrified gaze. In a hypnotized fashion he took out the fork and spoon
and balanced them in his fingers. A small card at the bottom of the bowl
caught his eye, and he bent over and read it:--

"_With Hearty Congratulations and Best Wishes to Captain and Mrs.
Trimblett from Captain Michael Walsh_."

For a long time he stood motionless; then, crumpling the card up and
placing it in his pocket, he took the bowl in his arms and bore it to
his bedroom. Wrapped again in its coverings, it was left to languish on
the top of the cupboard behind a carefully constructed rampart of old
cardboard boxes and worn-out books.

CHAPTER XIV

MR. HARTLEY'S idea, warmly approved by Captain Trimblett, was to divulge
the state of affairs to his daughter in much the same circuitous fashion
that Mr. Vyner had revealed it to him. He had not taken into account,
however, the difference in temper of the listeners, and one or two
leading questions from Joan brought the matter to an abrupt conclusion.
She sat divided between wrath and dismay.

"You--you must have misunderstood him," she said at last, with a little
gasp. "He could not be so mean, and tyrannical, and ridiculous."

Her father shook his head. "There is no room for misunderstanding," he
said, qu