scheduled time, and
we immediately repaired to the Lord Warden Hotel.

Lunch was followed by a comfortable half-hour in the lounge, after which
we decided to take the air until the arrival of the packet.

Perhaps the most famous of the gates of England, Dover has always worn a
warlike mien. Less formidable than renowned Gibraltar, there is a look
of grim efficiency about her heights, an air of masked authority about
the windy galleries hung in her cold grey chalk, something of Roman
competence about the proud old gatehouse on the Castle Hill. Never in
mufti, never in gaudy uniform, Dover is always clad in "service" dress.
A thousand threats have made her porterage a downright office, bluntly
performed. And so those four lean years, that whipped the smile from
many an English hundred, seem to have passed over the grizzled Gate like
the east wind, leaving it scatheless. About herself no change was
visible. As we leaned easily upon the giant parapet of the Admiralty
Pier, watching the tireless waves dance to the _cappriccio_ of wind and
sun, there was but little evidence to show that the portcullis, recently
hoist, had for four years been down. Under the shadow of the Shakespeare
Cliff the busy traffic of impatient Peace fretted as heretofore. The
bristling sentinels were gone: no craft sang through the empty air: no
desperate call for labour wearied tired eyes, clawed at strained nerves,
hastened the scurrying feet: no longer from across the Straits came
flickering the ceaseless grunt and grumble of the guns. The wondrous
tales of nets, of passages of arms, of sallies made at dawn--mortal
immortal exploits--seemed to be chronicles of another age. The ways and
means of War, so lately paramount, were out of sight. As in the days
before, the march of Trade and caravan of Pleasure jostled each other in
the Gate's mouth. Only the soldierly aspect of the place remained--Might
in a faded surcoat, her shabby scabbard hiding a loose bright blade....

The steamer was up to time.

When four o'clock came she was well in sight, and at fourteen minutes
past the hour the rattle of the donkey-engine came to a sudden stop, and
a moment later the gangways were thrust and hauled into their respective
positions.

Berry and I stood as close to the actual points of disembarkation as
convenience and discretion allowed, while Jill hovered excitedly in the
background.

As the passengers began to descend--

"Now for it," said my brother-i