lor calls bloody
... just bloody."

"How is young Morton?" asked the First Lieutenant.

No one appeared to know, for the enquiry went unanswered. The tall
figure pacing restlessly to and fro stopped and eyed the First
Lieutenant.

"Tweedledee's killed," he said dully. "Dead..." He resumed his
thoughtful walk and a moment later repeated the last word in a low
voice, reflectively. "Dead ..."

"I know," said the First Lieutenant.

Tweedledum halted again. "I wouldn't care if we had absolutely wiped
them off the face of the earth--sunk every one of them, I mean. We
ought to have, with just such a very little luck.... And now they've
slipped through our fingers, in the night." Tweedledum extended a
thin, nervous hand, opening and clenching the fingers. "Like slimy
eels."

"Some did," said the India-rubber Man musingly, filling a pipe. "Some
didn't. I only saw our guns actually sink one German Battleship; but
the visibility was awful, and we weren't the only pebble on the beach;
our line was miles long, remember."

"I saw one of their Battle-cruisers on fire and sinking," said Gerrard.
"I was in the top. And all night long our Destroyers were attacking
them. Two big ships blew up during the night." He cut a hunk of bread
and spread it thickly with marmalade. "We must have knocked
seven-bells out of 'em. And we didn't lose a single Battleship."

"Must have lost a Battle-cruiser or two, though," said the Engineer
Lieutenant, sitting with his head between his hands and his forefingers
propping open his eyelids. "Damn it, they fought the whole German
Fleet single-handed till we arrived! Must have..." His voice trailed
off and his fingers released his eyelids which closed instantly. His
chin dropped on to his chest, and he slept.

"Any other officer scuppered besides Tweedledee?" asked the Major of
Marines. "What's up with your head, Number One?"

"Only scratched by a splinter. A nearish thing. I haven't heard of
anybody else. We really got off very lightly considering they found
our range." The First Lieutenant clumped off towards the door. "Now I
must go and see about clearing up the mess. I reckon it's all over bar
the shouting."

As he went out Thorogood entered the Wardroom. "Would anyone like a
nice beef lozenge?" he enquired, removing a packet from his pocket.
"Owner having no further use for same."

"Where are we going?" asked the Paymaster. "I should like to go home,
I think,