“Cut out the hole till it is as large as on this side. Put your towel down so as to save the chips,” replied Gregory, in a low tone. Clinch went to work, and in a short time he had made the aperture of the same size all the way through. But half an inch was rather small, and they enlarged it to an inch, which would enable them to talk with less danger of being heard. The dressing-cases were then restored to their former positions. Gregory had improved upon his plan as the work proceeded; and it was necessary to remove only the drawers on each side when they wished to talk together. Each could call the attention of the other by shoving out the drawer. If any one came to the door of either state-room while the contrivance was in use, it could be concealed by restoring the drawer. “How are you now?” asked Gregory, when the cases had been replaced. “All right! this is a first-class arrangement,” replied Clinch. “Put your mouth close-up to the case, and speak very low,” added Gregory, who was as much pleased with his invention as though it had been a useful machine. “I will,” answered Clinch in a whisper. “Can you hear me?” “Very distinctly. The steamer is in still water now; and we may have to speak louder when she gets to sea.” “I heard some strange voices in the cabin before the steamer sailed. Do you know who they are?” asked Clinch. “I don’t. I have not heard them since the screw began to turn,” answered Gregory. “I believe I have heard one of the voices before; but I can’t think whose it is now.” “It may be some friend of yours. Your folks are English.” “But they all live in Lancashire; and none of them are likely to be in this part of England.” “We can find out who they are when the steward brings our dinner,” added Clinch. “I don’t suppose it makes much difference to us who the strangers are. Things look black enough on this side of the house,” said Gregory, in a rather desponding tone. “So they do on this side,” replied Clinch. “We can be a little more sociable than we have been; and that’s all.” “I don’t give it up yet.” “Give what up?” “Getting out of this scrape.” “I don’t see any way out of it.” A footstep in the cabin caused them both to insert the drawers, and close the conversation. CHAPTER XXI. THE SPRIGS OF NOBILITY. Every thing went well with the vessel and her management. The officers and seamen were faithful and attentive to their duty, so far as those in charge could discover. The weather was all that could be desired; and the Ville d’Angers logged from twelve to fifteen knots an hour. The quarter-watches were amply sufficient for the duty of the ship, and the four engineers made it easy work for Alexander and Richards. The Prince had superintended the provisioning of the steamer, and he had done it in the most lavish manner. The fare was better than that furnished on the vessels of the squadron, good as that was; and the students could not help speaking of the fact.