to my barrack-room, changed my uniform, and disappeared to escape
ridicule.

"What cheer, Condor?" were the first words that greeted me at reveille
next morning, and my room-mates kept it up. Sometimes the ridicule
worked overtime. Often I was on the edge of a wild outburst of passion
and resentment, but I mastered these things and went on with my
duties. At eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the day following my
assignment, we "mustered kits." This is the ordinary pre-embarkation
inspection. After inspection we packed our kits and were stood to
attention. Several corrections were made in the instructions of the
previous day. My heart almost stopped beating when my name was called
a second time.

"A mistake was made----"

The officer got no farther.

"I knew it, begorra!" I exclaimed, with flushed face and beating
heart.

The officer came close to me, looked straight into my face, and said,
"I have a good mind to put you in the guard room."

I stood still, motionless, silent.

"A mistake was made yesterday," he continued, "in appointing you to
the _Condor_. You are to go, instead, with a detachment to the
_Alexandra_, flagship of the Mediterranean Squadron."