When the first hatch was removed I gave a sigh of relief, for I saw that my men had found time to cover up the holds in the lower deck also. So the most important thing was hidden. The few pit-props which we had left between decks the day before were now to prove our salvation. As soon as the Englishman's eye caught sight of the wood strewn all round the sides of the hold he asked what the explanation was. I told him about the terrible storm which we had experienced, and how the whole of our deck-cargo, as well as some of the cargo in the hold, had shifted. Any sailor in his senses would have noticed at once the absurdity of this explanation, for when a ship's cargo shifts the hold presents a much more disorderly appearance than was the case here. The man appeared to be as little of a sailor as he was of a soldier, for he nodded his head and found my explanation quite reasonable. Emboldened by his ignorance I asked him if I should open the lower hold also, 'Not that you will see very much,' I remarked by the way, 'everything is so higgledy-piggledy down there.' At the same time I placed a small ladder for him, and with a gesture invited him to go down. Was he afraid that the ladder would not carry his weight, or did he think the descent would be too unpleasant? Anyway, he waved the ladder aside and said curtly, 'All right.' Then, without another look at the inside of the hold, he related to me how he had weathered this awful storm here in Tralee Bay, what a terrible time he had had, and how, by his clever handling, he had preserved _Shatter II._ from destruction. So excited did he get over his account that he did not notice that I had shepherded him back to the door of the cabin. Thank goodness! At any rate I had now got him away from that dangerous No. 1 hold, which, of course, was still wide open. In order to cut the business short I now asked him if he would like to see my papers. As he answered in the affirmative I pushed him into the cabin, and the next moment he was again seated on the sofa with me opposite him. Then I offered him a fat Havana and ordered the steward to bring two cups of coffee. This, of course, was all by-play, for an Englishman like this would certainly not drink coffee first thing in the morning. So he turned away quite angrily when Bruhns put down a large cup of coffee under his nose. To my joy I noticed that the whisky cupboard had not escaped his attention. He stared and stared between my legs at the locker, so I remarked quite casually, 'Perhaps you would rather have a little whisky?'