a wan here but's of that counthry, and they stick together something
fierce!"

"Well," I admitted, "our thoughts run parallel. Here is something to
drink confusion to them all. And, O'Reilly, I am glad I'm going to sail
to-morrow. I'd rather live on a sea full of submarines than in this
hotel, wouldn't you?"

Touching his forehead, he assented, and wished me good-night and a
good journey; part of his hope went unfulfilled, by the way. That ocean
voyage of mine was to take rank, in part at least, as a first-class
nightmare. The Central powers could scarcely have improved on it by
torpedoing us in mid-ocean or by speeding us upon our trip with a cargo
of clock-work bombs.



CHAPTER III

ON THE RE D'ITALIA

The sailing of the _Re d'Italia_ was scheduled for 3 P.M. promptly, but
being well acquainted with the ways of steamers at most times, above all
in these piping times of war, it was not until an hour later than I left
the St. Ives, where the manager, by the way, did not appear to bid me
farewell.

The thermometer had been falling, and the day was crisp and snappy, with
a light powdering of snow underfoot and a blue tang and sparkle in the
air. Dunny accompanied me in the taxicab, but was less talkative than