His letters were brought in then, and he nodded for me to leave. However, I was so fearfully keen to learn more that I blurted out: "Any chance of picking up a dhow or anything like that, sir?" "Of course there is always a chance," he said energetically. "Wilson will tell you all about everything: good morning!" I went away to the ward-room, hoping to get more information there; but the place was a litter of newspapers, and everybody was busy reading letters and paid little attention to me. "_Bunder Abbas_. What size is she?" "Oh, about as big as that table!" was all that I could get out of them. The Baron and I parted company that afternoon, when I went aboard the little steamer—the _Ras-al-Musat_. I found the gunner already there, and also that solitary little lady, with the yellow hair and humorous grey eyes—the little lady who had snubbed the fussy major—and me. She also was bound for Jask, of all places in the world, and, as at meal times she sat on the captain’s right and I on his left hand, we had to talk. However, she was much more interested in Mr. Scarlett and his stories of Arabian life than in me. At daybreak of the fifth morning we dropped anchor two miles off Jask, and I strained my eyes to catch a first glimpse of the _Bunder Abbas_, though in the hazy light I could not distinguish her amongst a cluster of dhows, anchored close inshore. All I could see was a wide sweep of yellow sand and a low-lying peninsula, jutting out into the sea, with some glaring white square buildings at its end. The place—if it really was an inhabited place—seemed absolutely asleep, until, presently, some small, crazy lighters, full of jabbering natives, came slowly off to unload whatever cargo we had for them. Half an hour later I spied a tiny little tub of a dinghy pulling our way. As she drew closer I saw that Wilson was in it. I had known him when he was a sub-lieutenant, and I met him at the gangway. "Jolly glad to see you," he burst out. "Everything’s all right aboard the _B.A_. I’ve ordered a chunk of goat for your breakfast—couldn’t get anything else. I told the political chap, up at the telegraph station, that you’ll be coming to see him. He will tell you anything you want to know. Here’s the ’signal book’ and the ’cruising order book’. Sign your ’tally’ there. There are no more confidential books to hand over." I signed the receipt for them. "Now you’re the skipper of the _B.A_. I’ve finished with her, thank Heaven! Griffiths, in the dinghy, can take you back now." Having so satisfactorily (?) concluded the formalities of handing over command, Wilson took some letters which I had brought for him, and went off to read them. I presumed that he was going to Karachi to catch a steamer back to Aden, but did not take the trouble to ask him before the gunner and myself left the _Ras-al-Musat_.