That did it. With an energetic 'You're the man for me,' he slapped me on the shoulder, and with characteristic shamelessness started to go to the locker himself and to pick out the best 'White Horse.' I let him go ahead, and in the meantime fetched a big tumbler, so that his ration should not be too small. Then I held out the water-bottle and asked, 'How much?' But the Englishman waved it aside, declaring 'No water! You know we never see this stuff here.' What better could I have wished? The conversation now became fairly lively, and when the Englishman asked to see the ship's papers I very willingly got out my whole collection of smoke-blackened documents. He pawed them over repeatedly, but I noticed at the first glance that he had no earthly idea of the meaning of the documents. He handed me a book to sign. I wrote myself down in several places as 'Niels Larsen, captain of the Norwegian steamer _Aud_, with pit-props and piece goods from Christiania, for Cardiff and Genoa.' At the mention of pit-props he remarked cheerfully that this cargo was badly wanted in England, and in confirmation of this statement he emptied his glass at a gulp. Without 'by your leave' he at once poured himself out another glass, and assured me again and again that the coffee which I drank was very bad for the nerves. Referring to the Norwegian newspapers lying in front of us, which were now three weeks old, I asked him if he could let me have a few English papers, as I was anxious to know the latest war news. He got up at once, went up on deck, and going over to the side shouted an order to the men on his ship to send over immediately all the papers lying in his cabin.