"I certainly can," the captain admitted, "but to tell you the truth,
sir, I scarcely see how this concerns you."

"I am endeavouring," his visitor replied, with a little wave of his
hand, "to justify my statement. Enquire of the purser, I beg you. It
will do no harm."

The captain shrugged his shoulders, touched the bell and despatched
his steward for Mr. Dix, the purser, who, happening to be on the deck
outside, made an immediate appearance.

"Mr. Dix," the captain asked him, "can you tell me if you have
received any wireless message intended for any one of the passengers
at or since three o'clock this morning?" "Not one, sir."

Crawshay's smile was beatific and triumphant. He relit his cigarette
which had gone out, and, crossing his legs, made himself a little more
comfortable.

"Very well, then," he said, "what I should like to know is, what
became of that message which made very pretty illuminations around
your conductor, or whatever you call it, for at least a quarter of an
hour this morning?"

"The message may merely have been an intercepted one," the purser
pointed out. "It may not have been fur us at all."

"I had an idea," Crawshay persisted, with bland and officious
precision, "that even intercepted messages, especially in time of war,