by an iceberg.

The steward brought in the tea-tray, and Captain Scottie settled into
his large armchair to enjoy it. His eye glanced automatically at the
barometer.

"A little wind to-night," he said, his nose wrinkling unconsciously as
the cover was lifted from the dish of hot anchovy toast.

"Yes, sir," said the steward, but lingered, apparently anxious to speak
further.

"Well, Shepherd?"

"Beg pardon, sir, but the Chief Steward wanted me to say they've found
someone stowed away in the linen locker, sir. Queer kind of fellow,
sir, talks a bit like a padre. 'E must've come aboard by the engine-room
gangway, sir, and climbed into that locker near the barber shop."

The problem of stowaways is familiar enough to shipmasters. "Send him up
to me," said the Captain.

A few minutes later Gissing appeared, escorted by a burly quartermaster.
Even the experienced Captain admitted to himself that this was something
new in the category of stowaways. Never before had he seen one in a
braided cutaway coat and wedding trousers. It was true that the
garments were in grievous condition, but they were worn with an air.
The stowaway's face showed some embarrassment, but not at all the usual
hangdog mien of such wastrels. Involuntarily his tongue moistened when
he saw the tray of tea (for he had not eaten since his supper on the
steam roller the night before), but he kept his eyes politely averted
from the food. They rose to a white-painted girder that ran athwart the
cabin ceiling. CERTIFIED TO ACCOMMODATE THE MASTER he read there, in
letters deeply incised into the thick paint. "A good Christian ship,"
he said to himself. "It sounds like the Y. M. C. A." He was pleased
to think that his suspicion was already confirmed: ships were more
religious than anything on land.

The Captain dismissed the quartermaster, and addressed himself sternly
to the culprit.

"Well, what have you to say for yourself?"

"Please, Captain," said Gissing politely, "do not allow your tea to get
cold. I can talk while you eat." Behind his grim demeanour the Captain
was very near to smiling at this naivete. No Briton is wholly implacable
at tea-time, and he felt a genuine curiosity about this unusual
offender.

"What was your idea in coming aboard?" he said. "Do you know that I can
put you in irons until we get across, and then have you sent home for
punishment? I suppose it's the old story: you want to go sight-seeing on
the other side?"

"No,