After a while I caught Ginger Lawson's eye and he shrugged his shoulders slightly. He told me afterwards that he had been fearing a flare-up for some minutes, but had hoped it would pass over. However, he strolled over to Jerry and started talking. "Mop that up, Jerry," he said, "and come along and do your duty. Baron, you don't seem to be dancing much to-night. Can't I find you a partner?" "Thank you, but I probably know more people here than you do." The tone even more than the words was a studied insult. "Lieutenant Travers's duty seems to have been unpleasant up to date, which perhaps accounts for his reluctance to resume it. Are you--er--lucky at cards?" This time the sneer was too obvious to be disregarded. Jerry looked up, and the eyes of the two men met. "It is possible, Baron von Dressier," he remarked icily, "that in your navy remarks of that type are regarded as witty. Would it be asking you too much to request that you refrain from using them in a ship where they are merely considered vulgar?" By this time a dead silence had settled on the wardroom, one of those awkward silences which any scene of this sort produces on those who are in the unfortunate position of onlookers. Von Dressler was white with passion. "You forget yourself, lieutenant. I would have you to know that my uncle is a prince of the blood royal." "That apparently does not prevent his nephew from failing to remember the customs that hold amongst gentlemen." "Gentlemen!" The Prussian looked round the circle of silent officers with a scornful laugh; the fumes of the spirits he had drunk were mounting to his head with his excitement. "You mean--shopkeepers." With a muttered curse several officers started forward; no ball is a teetotal affair, I suppose, and scenes of this sort are dangerous at any time. Travers held up his hand, sharply, incisively. "Gentlemen, remember this--er--Prussian officer and gentleman is our guest. That being the case, sir"--he turned to the German--"you are quite safe in insulting us as much as you like." "The question of safety would doubtless prove irresistible to an Englishman." The face of the German was distorted with rage, he seemed to be searching in his mind for insults; then suddenly he tried a new line. "Bah! I am not a guttersnipe to bandy words with you. You will not have long to wait, you English, and then--when the day does come, my friends; when, at last, we come face to face, then, by God! then----" "Well, what then, Baron von Dressler?" A stern voice cut like a whiplash across the wardroom; standing in the door was the admiral himself, who had entered unperceived.