He was a sailor by inclination and instinct. The call of the Five Oceans was irresistible. The sea with its changing moods was an attraction that would never pall. And under the White Ensign, a life afloat was at its very best. It was bad enough, Peter reflected, to have been chucked out of the navy once. To have to repeat the experience was almost unbearable. Following the signing of peace between Great Britain and Rioguay, the _Rebound_, _Repulse_, and _Retrench_, together with a number of light cruisers and destroyers, were ordered home. The _Royal Oak_ was to remain for the present as Flagship to the South American squadron with its base at San Antonio. On the afternoon prior to the day fixed for the departure of the homeward-bound warships, Peter was again ordered by signal to report on board the _Royal Oak_. "That means a telling off," he remarked to Cavendish. "I'm going to get it hot over that Don Ramon business." "'Fraid so," agreed Cavendish. "To tell the truth, old thing, I wonder you weren't on the carpet long before this. Don't suppose I can do much, but if you want me to back you up, I'm only too willing." Peter shook his head. "Best keep out of it," he replied. "The Admiral can't do much, considering I'm due to get slung out any old way." But Peter Corbold was woefully adrift. The Admiral received him quite cordially. "My flag-lieutenant has received his promotion," he announced. "I'm looking out for someone I can recommend for the billet, someone with a good knowledge of the Rioguayan language. You, I think, Mr. Corbold, will suit me." "But I'm holding a temporary commission, sir," explained Peter. "Rubbish!" declared the Admiral breezily. "There'll be no officer sacked on reduction. You can take my word for that. The Admiralty will want every trained officer they can lay their hands on with this expansion of the navy stunt coming on. Now, then, what do you say? Shall I send your name forward for appointment? Matter of form only, of course." "Thanks awfully, sir," mumbled Peter. He was too taken aback to answer coherently. Usually cool and self-possessed, his sudden stroke of good luck had metaphorically taken the wind out of his sails. "Very good, then," continued the Admiral. "We'll leave it at that for the present. Maynebrace, my flag-lieutenant, won't be turning over for a bit, so carry on on board the _Rebound_. When you get home, take a month's leave. The _Stylex_ is ordered to this station on the 25th of next month: you'd better come out in her.... Oh, by the by, you brought off some refugees, I understand?" "Yes, sir," admitted Peter.