e set up plaintive calls that echo over the Bay.

The heavy westerly gale that was reason for our being signalled in from
sea has blown itself out, and the water of the Bay stands still and
placid. All that is left of the furious squalls of yesterday has not
strength to keep us wind-rode in the anchorage, and we cast about to the
vagaries of the drift.

We were bound down from Salonika to Marseilles when ordered in. We had
expected to meet the relieving escort of destroyers at the Cerigo
Channel, but the bad weather had prevented them from proceeding at any
but a slow speed, and there was no prospect of their arrival at the
rendezvous. So we turned south to seek protection behind the booms at
Suda Bay. We are a packed ship. The shortage of transports has had
effect in crowding the vessels in service to a point far beyond the
limits of their accommodation. We have had to institute a
watch-and-watch system among our huge complement. While a proportion are
seeking rest below, others crowd the upper decks, passing the time as
best they may until their turn of the hammocks comes round.

The fine weather after the late gale has brought every one on deck. The
doings of the ships in the anchorage have interest for the landsmen.
Naval cutters and whalers are out under oars for exercise, and thrash up
and down the Bay with the long steady sweep of practised rowers. Our
escort of two destroyers arrives--their funnels white-crusted from the
heavy weather they have experienced on passage from Malta. They engage
the flagship with signals, then steam alongside an oiler to take fuel
for the return voyage. A message from the senior officer is signalled to
us to have steam raised, to proceed to sea at midnight.

Standing in from the Gateway, a British submarine comes up the Bay. She
moves slowly, as though looking for the least uncomfortable berth in the
anchorage. The oil-ship, having already the two destroyers alongside,
cannot offer her a place: she will have to lie off and await her turn.
We put a signal on her, inviting her people to tie up alongside and
come stretch their legs on our broad decks. Instant compliance. She
turns on a long curve, rounds our stern, and her wires are passed on
board.

The commander of the submarine gazes about curiously as he comes on
board. He confesses that he has had no intimate acquaintance with
merchants' ships. The huge number of our passengers impresses him,
accustomed as he is to the small m