"I don't think he was much of a success," the other continued, "and as
a matter of fact he is on his way back to England now to do his bit of
soldiering. All the same, Dix, he gave me a turn the other day."

"How's that, sir?"

"Showed me an order, signed by a person I won't name," the captain
went on, lowering his voice, "requesting me to practically run the
ship according to his directions--making him a kind of Almighty boss."

Mr. Dix opened his lips and closed them again. His eyes were wide
open with astonishment. There was an indecisive knock at the door,
which at a gesture from the captain he opened. Wrapped in a huge
overcoat, with a cap buttoned around his ears and a scarf nearly up to
his mouth, Crawshay stood there, seeking admittance.

* * * * *

"I am exceedingly fortunate to find you both here," the newcomer
observed, as he removed his cap. "Captain, may I have a few minutes'
conversation with you and Mr. Dix?"

"Delighted," the captain acquiesced, "so long as you don't keep me
more than twenty minutes. I am due on the bridge at nine o'clock."

"I will endeavour not to be prolix," Crawshay continued, carefully
removing his rubbers, unfastening his scarf and loosening his
overcoat. "A damp night! I fear that we may have fog."

"This all comes off the twenty minutes," the captain reminded him.