"Then let the war rage onward,
Let kingdoms rise and fall;
To each shall be the other,
Their life, their hope, their all."

[Footnote: I am indebted to Commander C. C. for the above rough
translation of Karl's effusion.--ETIENNE.]




_At sea._


We are bound for the same old spot as last time.

Alten must have been drinking like a fish lately; his breath smells
like a distillery; he is apparently partial to schnapps, which he gets
easily in Bruges.

I can't help admiring the man, as he is a rigid teetotaller at sea,
though he must find the strain well nigh intolerable, judging from the
condition he was in when he came on board last night. He was really
totally unfit to take charge of the boat, and I virtually took her down
the canal, though with sottish obstinacy he insisted on remaining on
the bridge.

This morning, though his complexion was a hideous yellow colour, he
seems quite all right. I shall play a little trick on him at dinner