"If he comes on board my ship," roared that gentleman, "I'll push
him down an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!"

Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was
never so welcome.

"You'll treat him with every courtesy," he said. "The only
satisfaction he gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We
will not give him that satisfaction."

But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult
than he had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the
war-ship, he again met Senator Hanley and the guests of the
SERAPIS, he could not forget that his career had come to an end.
There was much to remind him that this was so. He was made aware of
it by the sad, sympathetic glances of the women; by their tactful
courtesies; by the fact that Livingstone, anxious to propitiate
Hanley, treated him rudely; by the sight of the young officers,
each just starting upon a career of honor, and possible glory, as
his career ended in humiliation; and by the big war-ship herself,
that recalled certain crises when he had only to press a button and
war-ships had come at his bidding.

At five o'clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat,
having taken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to
Jamaica, and dipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his
fate, observed her departure in silence.

Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: "Have