upon which was piled many flimsies. It was the great Lord Jacquetot,
who for all his French name was English of the English.

"Will you explain to Mr. Dawson what we want of him or shall I?"
inquired the First Lord. Lord Jacquetot rose from his chair, showing
nothing of the infirmities of age. He approached Dawson, looked over
him keenly, and said, "You don't look like a civilian policeman. Where
have you served?"

Dawson explained that he had in former days been a Red Marine.

"I thought as much," said Jacquetot. "There is no mistaking the back
and shoulders of them. Once a Pongo, always a Pongo." He held out his
hand, which Dawson shook diffidently. An ex-private of Marines does
not often shake the hand of a First Sea Lord.

Lord Jacquetot walked over to one of the maps and beckoned to Dawson
to follow. The First Lord hovered in the background, ready to put in a
word at the first opportunity.

"There has been a serious naval disaster in the South Seas," said
Jacquetot, "and we must clean up the mess, pretty damn quick. The news
came yesterday. Orders were wired at once that two battle-cruisers,
the _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_, should be sent at full speed from
Scotland to Devonport to dock, coal, and complete with stores. To keep
them outside the enemy's observation, and to avoid any risk of mines
or submarines in the Irish Channel, they have been sent far out round
the west coast of Ireland. Here they are; we get messages from them
every hour." He indicated two pins. Just then a messenger entered and
handed to the First Sea Lord a wireless flimsy. Jacquetot read it,
slipped a scale along the map, took out the two pins, and shifted them
further south. "They are going well," said he; "doing twenty-five
knots. They should be off Plymouth Sound by to-morrow evening."

"It is a long way," put in Dawson, deeply interested. "Fifteen hundred
miles."

"There or thereabouts. The coast lights are all out, so that they will
steer a bit wide. They should do it in sixty hours."

"I gave the order within thirty minutes of getting the news of the
disaster," remarked the First Lord, smacking his lips.

Jacquetot made no reply, though his eyes hardened and his mouth drew
into a stiff line. It was his province to give Orders to the Fleet.

"Those battle-cruisers," went on Lord Jacquetot, addressing Dawson,
"will go into dock at Devonport as soon as they arrive. They will be
there forty-eight hours at least. They must be clean