"H'm!" said the Captain, with a glance at Sergeant Archelaus. "The other--but where is Tregaskis?" "Gone off, sir, to do business with the steward," explained Archelaus, saluting. "The other is a Mr. Tregaskis, a respectable man, and our principal tradesman in Garland Town. He has a design, I believe, to sell you whatever you may want in the way of fresh provisions." "Certainly. The steward can go ashore, too, and do business with him, and his boat will bring the others back. Here--Hoskings! Arnott!" Captain Whitaker called to a couple of seamen, and sent a third off to summon the steward. Five minutes later the Commandant found himself back in his boat, seated besides the _Milo's_ steward, and confronting a tall pile of luggage. The two seamen had already put off with Mr. Tregaskis in the steward's boat. "And you will present my duty to Madame?" said Madame's maid, looking down from the ship's side. "And tell her that I charge myself to see the rest of her luggage safe to the hotel, where I will report myself and wait for Madame's orders." Captain Whitaker waved good-bye. Archelaus pushed off and fell to the oars. The Commandant took the tiller. As the boat pointed for shore the garrison bell on the hill rang out nine o'clock. Nine o'clock! The notes of the bell struck apprehension upon the Commandant's heart. His guest would certainly be awake by this time, and as certainly hungry. To be sure, she could not attire herself until her boxes arrived--at any rate, would not appear. And yet, with such a strong-willed person, he could not be certain. A lady capable of landing on a foggy night in an evening gown and diamonds, and of walking up the street of St. Hugh's in shoes of rose-coloured satin, might well be capable of descending to breakfast in those garments. To breakfast!--and as yet that breakfast had to be bought, and on credit! He wished now that he had offered to convey Mr. Tregaskis back in his own boat. He might (he told himself) have broached his proposition on the way. The _Milo's_ steward, affably inclined, let fall a remark or two upon the Islands. He opined that they were quaint. The poor man meant well, but was a person slightly above his station, and clipped his words. This gave him a patronising tone, which the Commandant, in his impatience, found offensive. He answered in curt monosyllables, which in turn caused the steward to mistake him for a stand-offish gentleman. The steward was a very resplendent figure indeed. The morning sunlight, which drew sparkles from the brass-buttoned suit and brass-bound cap beside him, exposed pitilessly the threadbare woof of the Commandant's uniform coat. There had been nothing amiss with the coat, yesterday; nothing to observe, at least--- And, "Confound the fellow!" thought the Commandant, "how am I to get rid of him and have a word with Tregaskis?"