till a solitary cloaked figure hailed us and called for the captain.
Davies ran up a ladder, disappeared with the cloaked figure, and
returned crumpling a paper into his pocket. It lies before me now,
and sets forth, under the stamp of the Königliches Zollamt, that, in
consideration of the sum of ten marks for dues and four for tonnage,
an imperial tug would tow the vessel Dulcibella (master A. H. Davies)
through the Kaiser Wilhelm Canal from Holtenau to Brunsbüttel.
Magnificent condescension! I blush when I look at this yellow
document and remember the stately courtesy of the great lock gates;
for the sleepy officials of the Königliches Zollamt little knew what
an insidious little viper they were admitting into the imperial bosom
at the light toll of fourteen shillings.

'Seems cheap,' said Davies, joining me, 'doesn't it? They've a
regular tariff on tonnage, same for yachts as for liners. We start at
four to-morrow with a lot of other boats. I wonder if Bartels is
here.'

The same silence reigned, but invisible forces were at work. The
inner gates opened and we prised ourselves through into a capacious
basin, where lay moored side by side a flotilla of sailing vessels of
various sizes. Having made fast alongside a vacant space of quay, we
had our dinner, and then strolled out with cigars to look for the
Johannes. We found her wedged among a stack of galliots, and her
skipper sitting primly below before a blazing stove, reading his
Bible through spectacles. He produced a bottle of schnapps and some
very small and hard pears, while Davies twitted him mercilessly about
his false predictions.

'The sky was not good,' was all he said, beaming indulgently at his