e home was in the picturesque little village of Newton Ferrers, near
Plymouth, informing her of my good fortune in having secured so
satisfactory a berth, and explaining my inability to run down and see
her before my departure owing to the fact that we were to sail on the
following day. Then, having posted my letter, I got my few traps
together, bundled them all into my sea chest, and turned in to take my
last sleep on English soil for many a long day to come.

I was up and astir again by seven o'clock the next morning, my first
move being to go along to the yacht and interview Snip, the tailor, in
accordance with my arrangement of the previous evening. To my
amazement, I found that the man, with characteristic American "hustle",
had got my working suit of uniform far enough advanced for me to try it
on. The cut and fit proved to be everything: that could be desired, and
I was faithfully promised that the suit should be ready for me to don
upon joining the ship after signing articles.

In keeping with our pretensions to be a "swagger" ship and crew, the
wardroom mess took lunch, instead of dinner, at one o'clock, dining at
seven o'clock in the evening. This was the hour adopted by the saloon
party, who, I learned, were regularly reinforced by one or more members
of the wardroom contingent, by special invitation from Mrs Vansittart.

It was just two o'clock in the afternoon when the boatswain piped "All
hands unmoor ship"; and by half-past two we were through the dock gates
and heading down the river, impelled by our own engine.

Bearing out what Kennedy and the others had already told me as to Mrs
Vansittart being the actual as well as nominal captain of the yacht, at
the call of "All hands" the lady had appeared on deck. She was arrayed
in an exceedingly neat and workmanlike costume of navy-blue serge, the
jacket of which was fastened with gilt buttons bearing the insignia of
the New York Yacht Club, the cuffs being adorned with four rows of gold
braid, the top row showing the "executive curl", while her smartly
dressed chestnut hair was surmounted by a navy cap of the most approved
pattern, the peak edged with the usual trimming of a wreath of oak
leaves embroidered in gold thread, while the front of the cap bore the
New York Yacht Club badge.

True, she did not give her orders respecting the unmooring of the ship
directly to the crew, as this would probably have resulted in unduly
straining her voice, singul