looking more beaming than ever, was seated upon a ridiculously
inadequate camp-stool upon the floor, smoking a cigarette. Norgate
stared at him stupidly.

"My young friend," Herr Selingman declared impressively, "if there is one
thing in the world I envy you, it is that capacity for sleep. You all
have it, you English. Your heads touch the pillow, and off you go. Do you
know that the man is waiting for you to take your coffee?"

Norgate lay quite still for several moments. Beyond a slight headache, he
was feeling as usual. He leaned over the side of the bunk.

"How many whiskies and soda did I have last night?" he asked.

Herr Selingman smiled.

"But one only," he announced. "There was only one to be had. I found a
little whisky in my flask. I remembered that I had an English travelling
companion, and I sent for some soda-water. You drank yours, and you did
sleep. I go now and sit in the corridor while you dress."

Norgate swung round in his bunk and slipped to the floor.

"Jolly good of you," he muttered sleepily, "but it was very strong
whisky."




CHAPTER V