Once safely on board, the captain insisted upon putting his cabin at the disposal of the guest, who vainly protested that it was a luxury he could not possibly accept. Accordingly we poked him through the aftermost black hole. A feeble and final groan from the pipes announced that he had found bottom without troubling to negotiate the little iron ladder.

Meanwhile the quartermaster had procured a lantern.

If my brother believed that naval officers serving in a destroyer drew their "hard lying money" for sleeping on an iron plate at the bottom of a black hole, he was to be pleasantly surprised. The rays of the lantern revealed a small door opening into a very comfortable, if diminutive, cabin. On top of a sort of chest of drawers, a neat bunk lay ready prepared, with his own night-clothing on the counterpane. It was clear that everything had been arranged beforehand. A row of photographs adorned the bulkhead at his feet, while above his head hung a bookshelf containing Notices to Mariners and other books of a more racy description in case he found it difficult to sleep in new quarters, which, by the way, did not seem likely. The usual cabin washstand reared itself up in a corner, and alongside it a folding shelf did duty for a dressing-table. An indiarubber bath, hanging in the space outside the cabin, with a can of water in the corner,

proclaimed the possibilities of a morning tub.

Having lit the candle in a lantern secured above the dressing-table, the captain prepared to take his leave. "Resquescappacie! Ressicat” Our captain handled the Latin tongue with difficulty at this time of night. "I mean go' ni' 'n ress 'n peace," was his farewell greeting.

We ourselves went to turn in in the wardroom.

I have some recollection of a fierce argument as to who should sleep on the wardroom table, but as I found myself next morning comfortably tucked up in my own bunk, I suppose the captain won the argument. I reflected that we should have to come to some arrangement on the following night. My brother would scarcely like to turn the captain out of a comfortable cabin.

At eight o'clock we got under way, and after sundry preliminary squeaks, the magnificent band on our quarter-deck suddenly burst out into full blast, to the admiration and envy of our chummy ships.

We certainly attracted a considerable amount of notice in the harbour. Officers of the watches, after levelling their telescopes for an instant, ran back to shout information down their wardroom skylights.

We were soon honoured by appreciative groups. The blacksmith's mate of one ship that we passed at close quarters considered the occasion demanded that he should do

a sword dance on the portable forge, apparently on the open blacksmith's tongs. Unfortunately for the performer, the forge would not stand it, and the dancer disappeared amid a roar of applause from his shipmates.

So in a stately manner, steaming at the easy rate of ten knots, our bows dipping perceptibly to the beat of our powerful engines, we passed out to Spithead, and set our course for the Needles. The conspicuous ostrich feather bonnet, kilt, and white puttees of the "band" were exchanged for a service" duffle suit," and we settled down to the business of the day.

We were due in Dartmouth about half-past one in the afternoon. There would be fifty miles before we had St Albans abeam, then on to Portland would be another twenty or so, and from Portland to Dartmouth another fifty. Altogether about one hundred and twenty miles. The four hours full speed trial would cover a hundred miles, and working up to it would cover the odd twenty. We had five and a half hours to veer and haul on. As we rattled through the Needles the Courageous lunged suddenly into the long channel swell. The first taste of a destroyer's bridge at full speed in the open sea sent the guest down to profit by an offer of seaboots and an oilskin coat. A grummet round the foremost gun was in place to keep the officer of the watch

from being washed against the bridge rails when she took it green. A little of this sort of thing, when you are only an honorary member, is as good as a feast, and the guest climbed aft along the life-lines to the stern, where a pipe of tobacco could be enjoyed in peace.

Later on in the forenoon, when the sun could be presumed to have climbed over the foreyard, bottled beer appeared in the fiddles on the wardroom table together with ship's biscuit and a plate of sandwiches. Regular luncheon at noon, which is the appointed dinner hour, would be a practical impossibility on account of the vibration.

The steam trial was over shortly before we made Dartmouth Harbour, and with saltencrusted funnels we rolled easily in through the narrow entrance at reduced speed to find our way to the man-o'war buoy.

In the course of the afternoon we were besieged by a number of cadets from H.M.S. Britannia, and the majority of our party found their way ashore.

We were to leave after dinner in the evening, and since we would do the return journey at moderate speed, we should not arrive back in Portsmouth until the following morning. thirty was the time fixed for our departure.

Nine

During the afternoon the gunner and the signalman had put their heads together. They had decided that they approved

Just now he had become decidedly argumentative, and until the supply of bottled beer gave out, as I had come to know by experience, the mood was likely to continue.

When I returned to report all ready for sea, after having gone the rounds, I found a gorged Highlander engaged in heated argument with my captain as to whether he would sleep in the after-cabin or not. As a matter of fact, it had been all arranged. The gunner had pointed out that as he and I had to keep watch and watch during the night, we could take turns in the gunner's bunk. My brother could sleep in mine, and there would be no need for the "owner " to worry.

The captain could not see it. He was what the bluejackets call a teetotaller-that is to say, he had sworn off anything stronger than bottled beer, and it was beginning to have some effect upon him. In his early days, according to his own confession, he had been pretty free with gin cocktails, and had only recently been saved from the downward path by a combination of Christian Science and bottled beer. As the lower deck would have expressed it, he had "picked

As navigating officer, it would be necessary for me to keep the first watch and set the course after getting clear of the harbour. There were still fifteen bottles of beer left in the locker. I could not trust my brother to account for more than two at the outside. Indeed, he showed an unreasonable dislike for beer at this hour, in spite of sundry winks and nudges, and I gathered that he would be a broken reed to lean upon. Matters would have to take their course.

At nine-thirty we slipped our moorings and proceeded out of harbour to the ancient Scottish melody of "We've a' been provided for."

The wind had risen during the day, and as we began to feel the swell it became evident that there was a nasty lop of a sea outside. The pipes were hurriedly taken down into safety, life-lines were rigged fore and aft, hatches were battened down, and all hands prepared for a stuffy passage, with its accompanying discomfort.

When we altered course to the eastward, and I had reported to the captain what time I reckoned we ought to sight Portland, he retired from

the bridge to check my bearings under more congenial conditions in the cabin below. The little shelter that did duty for a chart-house on the bridge was already dripping with spray, and the deck chart was soaked through.

The Courageous began to roll and pitch heavily. There was a nasty cross swell. Various crashes answering each exceptionally heavy roll told of the mélée that was being created below.

The wardroom suffered as usual on these occasions. All the bunks were arranged over their owners' chests of drawers. The drawers, with their contents, began to slide open, those of them which had not been locked as a precaution. It is hopeless to try and replace a large drawer that has taken charge. With the quick roll of a destroyer, the only thing to do is to "choke its luff," and get it jambed up against a leg of the wardroom table. Everyone passing through the trap hatch which leads on to the upper deck is liable to admit a perfect deluge of water, and the wardroom soon becomes flooded out, the water swishing to and fro dismally with each roll.

None of these things disturb the bunk occupants. Rocked in the cradle of the deep they are securely wedged down in a sort of wide coffin. Things below them may groan and slide and clatter; it is all in the programme, and one gets used to it.

The guest, following sound adyice, turned in early, accompanied by the engineer and the gunner.

The captain sat on in the wardroom, consuming bottled beer, one arm twined around a stanchion, his chair jambed up in a corner, nd his heavy sea-boots gaining a purchase. on the legs of the table. A wet chart lay pinned out before him, and a plate of sandwiches danced merrily to and fro in line with his head on the swinging table. The wardroom lamp burned dimly overhead.

This was the state of affairs when, at midnight, I came off watch, relieved by the gunner. I turned into the gunner's bunk all standing. I would come on watch again at four o'clock in the morning.

Any lights that were sighted would, as a matter of course, be reported to the captain. Portland ought to be coming abeam somewhere about 2 A.M. When I came on watch again we ought to be pretty well off St Albans.

The gunner sent down to call me at four o'clock, and said he had sent down some time previously to the captain, but the signalman had been unable to find him. Could I say where the captain was sleeping?

I supposed the captain was in his after-cabin.

The signalman said, "No, sir, the captain give orders that your br-the marine orficer was beddin' 'isself down there, but there ain't nobody in the after-cabin."

With a sad heart I turned the ship back upon her course and posted look-outs, although it was obvious that such a search must be utterly hopeless.

Accordingly, I went down below again, and had a good look round the wardroom. There lay the newly rated "marine orficer" dead to all care in my own bunk. The engineer snored peacefully in his own snuggery, and the gunner's bunk lay empty as it had just been vacated. The captain certainly was not in the wardroom. I went into his cabin and searched there. It was evident he had not been near it. The floor was strewn with wreckage.

When I got on deck again I found, after making exhaustive inquiries, that the captain had been last seen standing right aft looking at the patent log. That was when we were off Portland Bill. It must have been nearly two hours ago. The little ship was then making remarkably heavy weather of it. There was no longer any doubt the captain must have fallen overboard!

It seemed useless going back upon our track in that heavy sea; nevertheless I made up my mind to do it.

The captain was a good swimmer; there was a bare possibility he might keep himself afloat, and a more slender possibility still that we might hear his

We steamed back for two hours, passing the position off Portland Bill where he was last seen alive.

The wind had gone down, dawn was already breaking, and a heavy mist was rising over the land. I decided to go into Weymouth and report to the senior officer there, then ask permission to proceed to Portsmouth.

We swung in toward the harbour.

The mist was coming down in regular patches of fog. It would be necessary to close one of the ships, and make our signal on the foghorn. Eventually this was done. The dismal moaning of the answering foghorn got upon my nerves. must go down to the wardroom and find a stiff tot of rum.

I

"Regret to report that captain has been lost overboard during the night," so ran the signal. It was difficult to get it through without endless repetition. Part of the signal had already been received, but they had not been able to make out our "number." That could be repeated at the end of the message.

The wardroom was in a state of chaos, everything lying about all over the deck in three inches of water. An absurd sea-boot stuck out from under the table