expense. Taking
advantage of the general confusion caused by your arrival, the First
Lieutenant selects this moment to peep into the turgid pages of an
illustrated Parisian journal I regret to say this mess contributes to."

The lecturer paused for breath. A tall, florid-faced Lieutenant
Commander with a broken nose, who had been leaning over the paper table,
pipe in mouth, straightened up with a chuckle and ostentatiously
fluttered the pages of the _Times_. He eyed the Staff Surgeon
reflectively for a moment and turned to the Captain of Marines.

"Have we had enough, do you think, Soldier?" he asked in a voice of
ominous quiet.

"I almost think so," replied the Captain of Marines. He finished his
_aperitif_ and stared absently at the skylight overhead.

"Pills, dear," said the First Lieutenant in honeyed accents, "we're
afraid you are showing off before a stranger. There is only one penalty
for that."

"The Glory-hole," said the Captain of Marines, and hurled himself on the
Staff Surgeon. The First Lieutenant followed suit, and between them they
dragged their struggling victim to the door.

The bull terrier leaped around them with hysterical yelps of excitement.

"Open the door, Padre," gasped the Captain of Marines as the struggle
swayed to and fro. "Garm, you fool, shut up!"

The Chaplain complied with the request with alacrity, and the three
interlocked figures and the ecstatic dog floundered through out into the
flat.

Just outside, in an angle formed by the armour of the turret and the
Wardroom bulkhead, was a small cupboard. It was used by the flat-sweeper
and messengers for the stowage of brooms, polishing paste, caustic soda
and other appliances of their craft, and was just large enough to hold a
small man upright.

Into this dungeon, with the assistance of the Navigator, they succeeded
in stowing the Staff Surgeon, and despite his protests and frantic
struggles, shut and fastened the door.

"Now," said the First Lieutenant, "let's go and have some lunch."

"But you aren't going to leave him there, are you?" protested the
India-rubber Man.

"Oh, no," was the reply. "The Padre is taking the time. Three minutes
we give him." They passed through into the long Wardroom where a score
or more of officers were seated at lunch round the table that occupied
practically the whole length of the apartment. "Come and sit here next
to Thorogood--you travelled up with him, didn't you?"

The offi