f for the East, and as anxious as you can be
to turn your back on Old England; while I, poor beggar, am quartered
here, and am longing to get home with all my might and main. Do you
think, if I had your chance, I would go abroad? Not I."

"Circumstances alter cases," returned Browne. "If you were in my place
you would want to be out of England. You should just have seen London
as we left. Fogs, sleet, snow, drizzle, day after day, while here you
are wrapped in continual sunshine. I don't see that you have much to
grumble at."

"Don't you?" said his friend. "Well, I do. Let us take my own case
again. I am just up from a baddish attack of Rock-fever. I feel as
weak as a cat--not fit for anything. And what good does it do me? I
don't even have the luck to be properly ill, so that I could compel
them to invalid me. And, to make matters worse, my brother writes that
they are having the most ripping hunting in the shires; from his
letters I gather that the pheasants have never been better; and, with
it all, here I am, like the Johnny in the heathen mythology, chained to
this rock, and unable to get away."

Browne consoled him to the best of his ability, and shortly afterwards
collected his party and returned to the yacht. The work of coaling was
completed, and Captain Mason, who resembled a badly blacked Christy
Minstrel, was ready to start as soon as his owner desired. Browne,
nothing loath, gave the order, and accordingly they steamed out of the
harbour, past the Rock, and were in blue seas once more. They would
not touch anywhere again until they reached Port Said.

That night on deck Browne was lamenting the fact that the yacht did not
travel faster than she did.

"My dear fellow," said Maas, "what a hurry you are in, to be sure!
Why, this is simply delightful. What more could you wish for? You
have a beautiful vessel, your cook is a genius, and your wines are
perfect. If I had your money, do you know what I would do? I would
sail up and down the Mediterranean at this time of the year for months
on end."

"I don't think you would," replied Browne. "In the meantime, what I
want is to get to Japan."

"I presume your _fiancee_ is to meet you there?" said Maas. "I can
quite understand your haste now."

There was a silence for a few moments, and then Maas added, as if the
idea had just struck him: "By the way, you have never told me her name."

"Her name is Petrovitch," answered Browne softly,