“Why should we be interested?” Phil inquired modestly. “We have no trade here, and but a handful of our countrymen live in the islands.” “And most of them,” Lieutenant Sargeant replied, “are people one cannot be proud to acknowledge. But our real interest is to get a coaling station here. Tua-Tua is a fine land-locked harbor, and is on the steamer route from both San Francisco and Panama to New Zealand and Australia. Herzovinia may have all the rest if we can hold the island of Kulila with the harbor of Tua-Tua. That’s why we have a war-ship here.” “What does England want out of it?” Ensign Patterson inquired. “England,” Lieutenant Sargeant answered, “is interested to see that Herzovinia does not grab too much. Through England’s help we may be able to get Tua-Tua; without it, against the Herzovinian diplomacy, we should get nothing.” “The natives of Kapua stand to lose in any case,” Sydney remarked. “I for one would like to see the natives remain independent, and hope that this will be the time when all hands ‘bust’ in their calculations.” The captain of the British cruiser had been paying a visit to Commander Tazewell, and Phil, on duty as junior officer of the watch, was called upon an hour later to see that the English captain’s gig was manned for him at the gangway. The two commanders stood in the shadow of the poop-deck conversing in low, serious tones. Phil had found that the boat was ready alongside and had advanced to report. The figure of a man, also in the shadow, his body bent forward in a listening attitude, caught his eye. Phil stopped, and at once the man drew back and walked silently away. Phil crossed over to investigate the identity of the evident eavesdropper. Suddenly from the gloom of the deck the captain’s orderly appeared. “Were you looking for me, sir?” the sailor said respectfully. Phil hesitated. He was on the point of denouncing him as an eavesdropper. “I thought I heard you call, sir,” the sailor added apologetically. “I was on a message forward for the captain.” “Yes, report to the captain that the English gig is at the gangway,” Phil ordered. The midshipman decided he had confronted the wrong man. “Did you pass any one as you came aft?” he asked as an afterthought. “Yes, sir,” the orderly replied readily. “Just there a man passed going forward. I took him for one of the electrical gang. He came out of the cabin, I think.” The orderly crossed the deck, saluted stiffly and made his report. The two captains walked slowly toward the gangway. Phil took his place to the left of the regular officer of the deck. “Good-night,” the Englishman said, his hand to his cap. “You’ll find us ready when you say the word, Tazewell,” he added in a loud aside as he briskly descended the ladder to his boat.