y his hosts; he had enjoyed the society of many
old comrades, whose pockets he had afterwards lightened at snooker pool;
and the few glasses of wine he had drunk had done him no greater harm
than to render him, out here under the stars, mildly sentimental about
his little girl at Ottermouth.

"A rattling good sort, Enid, and no flies on her for a young 'un," he
summed up his mental recapitulation of his sweetheart's virtues. "But if
she tries to boss me afloat as well as ashore the little witch will have
to look out for squalls, that's all."

As he passed through the dock gates his musings were suddenly but
respectfully broken into by the police-constable who admitted him.
Reggie was the kind of officer who is known by sight, and was remembered
even by those who had but little to do with him.

"You're wanted on the telephone, sir," said the man, leading the way
into the gate-house. "Sounds like a lady. Been holding the wire and
ringing up every two minutes for the last half-hour."

Needless to say that there is an all-night telephonic service into his
Majesty's dockyards, and for the commander of a "destroyer" to be rung
up at any hour was nothing out of the common. All sorts of official
instructions fly about irrespective of the sun's position in the
heavens. Port admirals never go to bed, or if they do they leave some
wakeful person to harass their subordinates with ill-timed change of
orders. But a lady on the telephone at 12.30 at night was a novel
experience, considering that the common or garden species has not access
to telephonic communication in the small hours. It must be the port
admiral's wife, Reggie told himself, doing her lord and master's dirty
work for want of an available secretary.

"Who is it?" he asked, when he had been shown to the instrument, and had
made his presence known to the other end.

The reply, which was also in the form of a question, fairly staggered
him, "Is that you, Reggie? It's me, Enid. Yes, you old silly--Enid
Mallory at Ottermouth. The most awful thing has happened, and I want
your help. You are the only person in the whole world who can help. Are
you listening? Are you ready to attend to every word I say?"

"Go ahead!" was Reggie's laconic reply, the flippant gibe that rose to
the tip of his tongue checked by the reflection that the Ottermouth
exchange was not ordinarily open at that time of night. Allowing for
Enid's fondness for exaggerated phrasing, there must be some