he Commander-in-Chief's flag.
That's where Podgie was bound for. Rummy to think he'll be back in
London again in a couple of days' time!"

A seaplane that had been riding on the surface near the Fleet Flagship's
quarter, rose like a flying gull, circled in wide spirals over the Fleet
and sped seawards. Across the lanes of water, armed picket-boats, with
preternaturally grave-faced Midshipmen at their wheels, picked their way
amongst the traffic of drifters, cutters under sail, hooting store
carriers and puffers from the distant base.

Mouldy Jakes contemplated the busy scene without undue enthusiasm.

"Everything seems to be much the same as usual," was his dry comment.
"They seem to have got on all right without me for the last seven days.
We've had a coat of paint, too. Wonder what's up. P'raps the King's
coming to pay us a visit. Or else the Commander reckons it's about time
to beat up for his promotion."

The skipper of the drifter jerked the miniature telegraph to "Slow," and
a hoary-headed deck-hand stumped into the bows with a heaving line coiled
over his arm. The drifter crept up under the quarter of a Battleship
that towered above them into the grey sky.

A tall, thin Lieutenant with a telescope under his arm looked down from
the quarterdeck and made a gesture of greeting.

"Hullo, Tweedledum," said Thorogood; and added, "Bless me, Tweedledum's
shaved his beard off!"

"Must be the King, then," said Mouldy gloomily. "Means I shall have to
order another monkey-jacket." A bull terrier thrust a python-like head
between the rails and wagged his tail. The drifter grated her fenders
alongside and made fast.

The three officers climbed the swaying ladder to the upper deck, and were
greeted in turn by the tall Lieutenant with the telescope. "You're
Standish, aren't you?" he asked, turning to the India-rubber Man. "The
Commander wants to see you--you're an old shipmate of his, it seems?" He
led the way as he spoke towards a door in the after superstructure.

"Yes," was the reply. "He was the First Lieutenant in my last ship--with
this Skipper."

"Ah," said the other, "she must have been a good ship then."

They skirted a hatchway in the interior of the superstructure that yawned
into the electric-lit interior of the ship, past cabins opening on to the
foremost side of them, and stopped at a curtained doorway. A square of
polished mahogany was screwed into the bulkhead beside it, with the
follow