The light cruiser had entered Portsmouth Harbour and was now abreast the blackened ruins of what was once the semaphore tower. Ahead and on the starboard bow appeared three tapering masts above a block of yellow-bricked offices. At the mizzen-truck fluttered a white flag with a St. George's Cross. Quickly the rest of the vessel came into view--a comparatively small black-hulled ship with triple bands of white--lying, not riding to the tide, but in a dry dock, in which she is fated to remain as long as her planks and timbers hold together. A few seconds later and again the bugle blares out--this time to "carry on". The _Baffin_, as does every vessel belonging to His Majesty's navy that passes that way, has paid her homage to the renowned _Victory_. Past the huge building slip--from which, until the Washington Conference left it untenanted and derelict, a ceaseless procession of noble battleships sped to make their first acquaintance with the ocean--the _Baffin_ glided. Then, under port helm, she turned her lean bows towards the gigantic lock through which she must pass to gain her allotted berth. Ahead were warships of every size and condition; battle-scarred capital ships that had borne the brunt of Jutland, gigantic seaplane-carriers, battle cruisers, light cruisers, P-boats, destroyers, and submarines--forlorn, neglected, and condemned to the scrap-heap. No longer did the once-busy dockyard resound to the ceaseless rattle of pneumatic hammers as the "maties" toiled to contribute their not inconsiderable share to the supremacy of the Empire. "You mark my words, old son," exclaimed Cavendish, "some day we'll be sorry we've scrapped these ships. We'll want them pretty badly. People talk of air power being the predominant factor, and that the battleship is a back number! It's sea power that counts, has counted from the beginning of history, and will do so till the end." CHAPTER II A Day of Surprises Three months later, Peter Corbold saw Rioguayan territory for the first time. Acting upon a laconic cablegram from his uncle, Brian Strong, he had taken a passage in a Royal Mail steamer as far as Barbadoes, transferring at that point to one of the fleet of small vessels plying between the West Indies and the numerous ports on the Rio Guaya. After a voyage lasting nearly a week, the steamer entered the wide estuary of the Rio Guaya, which, for more than a hundred miles, averages forty miles in width, and is tidal for a distance of nearly four hundred and fifty miles. On the right bank is the Republic of San Valodar; on the left that of San Benito. Rioguayan territory does not begin until Sambrombon Island, where the river is divided into two deep-water channels barely five miles in width.