Mrs. Shuster.

"Oh, I've picked up Russian--and a little French, and Italian, and
Spanish."

"You ought to get quite a good position, then."

"I intend to try."

"But they say it's almost impossible to find work anywhere now, without
influence," she went on. "Have _you_ got influence?"

"None whatever, madam."

Her face brightened. She'd have been bitterly disappointed if he had
answered differently! "Well, we'll see what I can do for you on land,
since you won't accept anybody's assistance on water," chirped the
benefactress. "With your knowledge of languages, you might help me in my
Propaganda." (The way she spoke that word spelt it with a capital.)

The Stormy Petrel flushed up again, whether with annoyance or
embarrassment or a mad desire to laugh, I couldn't decide. He murmured
that she was very kind, but that he wouldn't trouble her. She must have
many people to look after, and he would be all right in one way or
another. He wasn't afraid.

"No, indeed, I'm sure you're never afraid of _anything_!" protested Mrs.
Shuster, breathless with enthusiasm. But at this moment the officer who
was our guide felt that the limit had been reached, even for a
millionairess. He hinted that there was more to see of third-class life,
and moved us on when our leading lady had offered a royal handshake to
the steerage hero. She would no doubt have pinned a V. C. on his breast
if she had had one handy, but was obliged to content herself with
screaming out reassurances as we were torn away: "I won't forget you. I
shall see you again, and suggest something _definite_."

Of course we didn't want to see more third-class life but we had to
pretend to. We saw where the poor dears (Mrs. Shuster called them poor
dears) slept and bathed (if at all) and ate. After a boring ten or
fifteen minutes we were returning by the way we had come, when a sheet
of paper blew along the deck. It made straight for me as if asking to be
saved, and I saved it; otherwise it would have fluttered into the sea.

Somebody had just begun writing on the paper with one of those blue
indelible pencils such as soldiers use in the trenches. There were two
or three lines along the top of the page, and they jumped right at my
eyes, though of course I didn't mean to read them--"in case you don't
get the wireless. You must see him and make him understand that this
can't go on. Men rose from the dead in old days. What has been done
before can be done again. Warn h