orce and ability behind his chief's placid, silent exterior, and
the lesson he received was salutary and lasting. He watched with a
critical eye the management and navigation as the _Boadicea_ was
pressed through the stream past Gallipoli into the sea of Marmora, and
admitted to the second mate that but for the excessive carrying on
there was no flaw to be found.

"Indeed," said he, "I am beginning to see that we have got our master
here in everything. I'm sure he is a gentleman, and I wouldn't be
surprised to find that he's a sailor as well."

The following night the wind had fallen away to a gentle breeze. The
vessel was sailed close past San Stephano, and soon came within range
of that weird sepulchral cry of the Turk for the return of their
prophet Mahomet. I know what it is like, for I have often stood on deck
and listened to the melancholy wailing call of scores of voices
appealing to their God, and filling the air with thrilling pathos,
until I have been stricken with a sense of sadness myself, which caused
me to envy the devotion of the people whom we, who call ourselves
Christians, deride. Macvie was greatly touched by the sombre wail that
was wafted over the glassy waters, and for a brief moment it took his
thoughts to the old home of prayer and saintly song, and made him
wonder whether the God to whom these people were calling could also be
his. But he had no time to ponder over eternal things. His vessel was
slipping towards the anchorage at Scutari. A suitable berth was picked,
the anchor dropped, sails furled, and then the captain's gig was made
ready by her crew, who were ordered to wash and dress themselves in
white ducks and blue jerseys, the latter having the name of the vessel
in front. All being ready, the master stepped into the boat and was
rowed in regal style to a landing in the Golden Horn. He was met there
by an agent, who informed him that he knew the stores were much needed
in the Crimea, but no official instructions having been given, he would
have to remain at anchor until they came.

"But don't you think," said the captain, "it would be as well for me to
proceed off Sevastopol or Kertch, and see if they really are in need of
the supplies I have on board?"

"My dear fellow," replied the agent, "you must never think of doing
such a thing. It would be deemed a breach of the rules of the service,
and you might be court-martialled and lose a splendid charter for doing
so. Take my advice: li