d may guess, but, as Mr.
Cary says, they won't talk. You two gentlemen are safe," added Dawson
pleasantly, "for I've got you tight in my hand and could lock either
of you up in a minute if I chose."

A peculiar knock came upon the door, a word passed between Dawson and
the police sentry outside, and a young man in the uniform of a naval
petty officer entered the room. He was clean-shaven, looked about
twenty-five years old, was dark and slim of the Latin type which is
not uncommon in Cornwall, and impressed me at once with his air of
intelligence and refinement. His voice, too, was rather striking. It
was that of the wardroom rather than of the mess deck. I liked the
look of Petty Officer Trehayne. Dawson presented him to us and then
took him aside for instructions. When he had finished, both men
rejoined us, and the conversation became light and general. Trehayne,
though clearly suffering from nervous strain after his recent
professional failures, talked with the ease and detachment of a highly
cultivated man. It appeared that he had been educated at Blundell's
School, had lost his parents at about sixteen, had done a course in
some electrical engineering shops at Plymouth, and when twenty years
old had secured a good berth on the engineering staff of the _Vernon_.
He could speak both French and German, which he had learned partly at
school and partly on the Continent during leave. Dawson, who was
evidently very proud of his young pupil and assistant, paraded his
accomplishments before us rather to Trehayne's embarrassment. "Try him
with French and German," urged Dawson. "He can chatter them as well as
English. But he is as close as wax in all three languages. Some men
can't keep their tongues still in one."

I turned to Trehayne and spoke in French: "German I can't abide, but
French I love. My vocabulary is extensive, but my accent
abominable--incurably British. You can hear it for yourself how it
gives me away."

"It is not quite of Paris," replied Trehayne. "Mais vous parlez
francais tres bien, tres correctement. Beaucoup mieux que moi."

"Non, non, monsieur," I protested, and then reverted to English.

"Now," said Dawson, when Trehayne had left us, "I must get along, see
the Commander of the _Malplaquet_, and draw a uniform and rifle out of
the marine stores. It will be quite like old times. You won't see me
until Saturday, when I shall be either a triumphant or a broken man.
What is the betting, Mr. Copplest