Chapter VI

BE it understood that Gunroom Officers do not usually talk at breakfast. The right-minded entrench themselves behind newspapers, and deal in all seriousness and silence with such fare as it has pleased the Messman to provide. In harbour, those favoured of the. gods make a great business of opening and reading letters, pausing between mouthfuls to smirk in an irritating and unseemly manner. But it is not until one reaches the marmalade stage, and the goal of repletion is nigh, that speech is pardonable, and is then usually confined to observations on the incompetency the cook in the matter of scrambling eggs and the like.

Abreast the screen-door, which opened from the battery to the quarter-deck, the ship's side curved suddenly into a semicircular bastion. It was thus designed to give the main-deck gun a larger arc of fire, but had other advantages - affording a glimpse ahead of splayed-out seas racing aft from the bow, and in fine weather a sunny space sheltered from the wind by casemate and superstructure.

Here, one morning after breakfast, came the Gunroom Smokers, pipe and tobacco-pouches in hand. Cigarettes were all very well in their way:"two draws and a spit"snatched during stand-easy in the forenoon. A cigar was a satisfying enough smoke after dinner when one's finances permitted it; but while the day of infinite possibilities still lay ahead, and the raw, new sunlight flushed the world with promise, then was the time for briar or clay: black, well seasoned, and of a pungent sweetness.

Each smoker settled into his favourite nook, and, cap tilted over his nose, with feet drawn up and hand-clasped knees, prepared to sit in kindly judgment on the Universe. The Sub-Lieutenant blew a mighty cloud of smoke and gave a sigh of contentment. He had kept the Middle Watch. From midnight till four that morning he had been on the bridge, moving between the faint glow of the binnacle and the chart-house, busying himself with a ruler and dividers, and faint lines on the surface of the chart. He was clear-eyed and serene of brow, as befitted a man who had seen the dawning. For a like reason he had neglected to shave.

"What's the news?"inquired the Assistant Paymaster between puffs. The ship had been three days at sea, and was even then a hundred and fifty miles from her destination. But very early in the morning a tired-eyed Operator in the Wireless-house had sat, measuring in dots and dashes the beating of the world's pulse.

"A disastrous earthquake-"began a Midshipman, reading from the closely-written sheet.

"Oh, hang you and your earthquake!"said the Sub."I'm sick of earthquakes - who won the Test Match?"Which, when you consider the matter, is no bad attitude towards life in which to start the day.

"A new aeroplane-"resumed the, reader.

"Talkin' of aeroplanes,"inter interrupted some one"I once knew a girl ���"

"Why don't they have Snotties in the Flying Corps?"chimed in a third."Why, if I were in the Government, I'd��"

But the reader continued in tranquil indifference. Quite a number of years had passed since he first learned that in Gunroom communities to stop speaking on account of interruptions meant spending your days in the silence of a Trappist.

". . . at the point of the bayonet, the enemy retreating in disorder."Silence on the group at last. This was of more account than cricket or aeroplanes, for this was War, their trade in theory, and, perchance and the Fates were wondrous kind - the ultimate destiny of each. The Censor of Governments gave a delighted blast from his pipe�..

"The bayonet!"he breathed."That's the game . . . !"In all his short life he had never seen a blow delivered in hate - the hate that strikes to kill. Yet a queer light smouldered in his eyes as half-dreamily he watched the waves scurrying to join the smother of the wake.

The Clerk by the muzzle of the 6-in. gun took his pipe out of his mouth and turned towards the speaker."I've got a brother on the Frontier-lucky blighter, I bet he's in it!"He removed his glasses, as he always did in moments of excitement, and blinked short-sightedly in the morning sunlight. He came of a fighting strain, but had been doomed by bad sight to exchange the sword, that was his heritage, for pen and ledger."Does it say anything else - let me see, Billy."

"No - no details; only a few casualties; they killed a Subalt-"he stopped abruptly; the wind caught the sheet and whisked it from his fingers. His face had grown white beneath its tan.

"Oh, you ass !"chorussed the group. The piece of paper whirled high in the air arid settled into the water astern. A shadow fell athwart the seated group, and the Sub. looked up.

"Hullo! Good-morning, Padre!"

"Good-morning,"replied the sturdy figure in the mortar-board. A genial priest this, who combined parochial duties with those of Naval Instructor, and spent the dog-watches in flannels on the forecastle, shepherding a section of his flock with the aid of boxing-gloves."Discussing the affairs of your betters, and the Universe, as usual, I suppose! I came over to observe that there is a very fine horizon, and if any of ye feel an uncontrollable desire to take a sight-"

"Not yet, sir !"protested a clear tenor chorus."Morning-watch, sir,"added a voice; then, mimicking the grumbling whine of a discontented Ordinary Seaman:"Ain't 'ad no stand-easy - besides, sir, the index-error, of my sextant"

Somewhere forward in the. battery the notes of a bugle sang out. The members of the Gunroom smoking circle mechanically knocked out their pipes against the rim of the whitewashed spitkid, and rose one by one to their feet, straightening their caps. In a minute the sponson was deserted, save for the Clerk who lingered, blinking at the sunlit sea. A moment later he turned, encountering the kindly, level eyes of the Chaplain.

"The name,"he said, with a little inclination of his head to where, far astern, a gull was circling curiously,"was it - the same, sir - as mine?"

"Yes,"replied the Chaplain gravely.

The boy nodded and turned again to the sea. His young face had hardened, and the colour had gone out of his lips. The other, thrice blessed in the knowledge of how much sympathy unmans, and how much strengthens to endure, laid a steadying hand on the square shoulder presented to him"He died fighting, remember,"said this man of peace.

The Clerk nodded again, and gripped the hand-rail harder."He always was the lucky one, sir."He adjusted his glasses thoughtfully, and went below to where, in the electric-lit office, the ship's Ledger was awaiting him.

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