, puffing a most excellent cigar
and sipping his whiskey and soda while, amid much shouting of
seamen and screaming of windlasses, the staff boat got clear.
Presently they were gliding past long low moles and black,
inhospitable lighthouses, threading their way through the dark
shapes of war craft of all kinds into the open Channel. There was
a good deal of swell, but the sea was calm, and the vessel soon
steadied down to regular rise and fall.

They had been steaming for nearly an hour when, through the open
door of the cabin, Desmond saw a seaman approach the captain on
the bridge. He handed the skipper a folded paper.

"From the wireless operator, sir!" Desmond heard him say.

The skipper scanned it. Then the engine telegraph rang sharply,
there was the sound of churning water, and the vessel slowed
down. The next moment the Captain appeared at the door of the
cabin.

"I'm afraid we're going to lose you, Major," he said pleasantly,
"a destroyer is coming up to take you off. There was a wireless
from the Admiral about you."

"Where are they going to take me, do you know?" asked Desmond.

The Captain shook his head.

"I haven't an idea. I've only got to hand you over!"

He grinned and added:

"Where's your kit?"

"In the hold, I expect!" answered Desmond. "The porter at
Victoria told me not to worry about it, and that I should find it
on the other side. And, oh damn it!--I've got a hundred
cigarettes in my kit, too! I bought them specially for the
journey!"

"Well, take some of my cigars," said the skipper hospitably, "for
your traps'll have to go to France this trip, Major. There's no
time to get 'em up now. I'll pass the word to the Military
Landing Officer over there about 'em, if you like. He'll take
care of 'em for you. Now will you come with me?"

Desmond scrambled into his coat and followed the Captain down the
steps to the deck. A little distance away from the vessel, the
long shape of a destroyer was dimly visible tossing to and fro in
the heavy swell. A ladder had been let down over the side of the
steamer, and at its foot a boat, manned by a number of heavily
swathed and muffled forms, was pitching.

A few officers stood by the rail watching the scene with
interest. The skipper adroitly piloted Desmond past them and
fairly thrust him out on to the ladder.

Desmond took the hint and with a hasty "Good night" to the
friendly captain, staggered down the swaying ladder and was
helped into t