ood-night and made his way out into the fresh night-air,
wondering if it was all true, and whether he was not suffering from some
attack of nightmare; but the streets and the docks all looked very real,
and when he reached the cutter and was saluted by the watch he began to
think that there was no doubt about it, and he began, as he lay awake,
to consider whether he ought not at once to take possession of the
lieutenant's cabin.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

IN COMMAND.

The memory of that dinner and the words that he had heard filled
Hilary's dreams that night. He was always waking up with a start,
nervous and excited, and then dropping off again to dream of being
lieutenant, captain, admiral, in rapid succession. Then his dreams
changed, and he was helping Sir Henry and saving Adela from some great
danger. Then he was in great trouble, for it seemed that he had been
guilty of some gross blunder over his despatches, and he seemed to hear
the voices of Captain Charteris and the admiral accusing him of neglect
and ingratitude after the promotion given him.

It was therefore weary and unrefreshed that he arose the next morning,
glad to have a walk up and down the deck, which had just been washed;
and as he soon began to revive in the cold fresh air, he felt a
sensation of just pride in the smart little cutter now just freed from
the workpeople and shining in her paint and polish. New sails had been
bent and a great deal of rigging had been newly run up. The crew, glad
to have the cutter clean once more, had made all shipshape. Ropes were
coiled down, Billy Waters' guns shone in the morning sun, and all that
was wanted now was the order to start.

Hilary went below and had his breakfast, which he had hardly finished
when the corporal of marines came down with a despatch.

"Boat from the shore, sir," he said, saluting.

Hilary took the packet, which was addressed to him, and as he opened it
the colour flushed into his face and then he became very pale.

The despatch was very short. It ordered him to take the cutter outside
instantly and wait for the important despatches he was to take across to
Dunkerque. Above all, he was to sail the moment Lieutenant Anderson
came on board with the papers and stop for nothing, for the papers were
most urgent.

But with the letter was something else which made his heart throb with
joy--what was really his commission as lieutenant, and the despatch was
addressed to him as Lieu