Two things marred his perfect happiness. One was, that neither Mellins nor Toddles was going to land; the other was, that he had to leave behind the greater part of his home-made cake. "An ill wind that blows nobody any good," said Mellins gloomily, as he transferred the remainder to his own chest. * * * * * Directly it was dark the landing-party "fell in" on the quarter-deck. Helston made them a little speech, and then they were sent across to "No. 3", the rest of the ship’s company crowding aft to see them over the side and wish them luck. Helston did not like the look of the weather, and said so; Cummins did not either, but kept that to himself, and only wanted to get away from the ship before orders were countermanded. For once he was as nervous as a woman. Directly, however, "No. 3" steamed away in the dark and had lost touch with the Flag-ship, all fear and anxiety left him, and he could have whooped for joy. He called the men aft, said a few words to them, explained exactly what he wanted them to do, and finished by saying: "You have ten hours to get through aboard here. Sleep, boys, sleep all you can; you’ll want it before you’ve finished." But the marines were all young men—most of them Cockneys; not one had ever been under fire before, and the prospects of a fight at daybreak made sleep impossible for them. In little groups they lay down wherever they could find shelter from the cold night wind, smoking their pipes and talking with subdued excitement. The officers lay on the ward-room deck and tried to sleep, but even they failed to do so. Cummins himself was on deck practically the whole night, for the sun had set behind a very angry-looking bank of clouds, and the breeze showed signs of increasing and veering to the south. A strong southerly breeze would make it almost impossible to land on the southern shore of the island, and it was this tendency of the wind to veer to the south’ard which gave him so much anxiety. At two o’clock in the morning it was blowing quite fresh from the south-west. It was raining very heavily, with strong gusts of wind, and the outlook was most unpromising. Parker, in dripping oil-skins, reported the barometer still falling, and for a while Cummins almost decided to abandon the enterprise. Fortunately the wind, an hour later, went right round to the north-west, the stars came fitfully out, and a young moon, in the intervals of drifting clouds, gave light enough to see occasionally the outlines of the island. "Carry on, Parker, the elements are with us," chuckled the Commander. "They won’t be for long, sir; the glass is still falling." The engine-room telegraph clanged down below, the sleepy artificer answered back, "No. 3" slowly forged ahead with two of the _Laird’s_ cutters in tow, and the marines, starting to life with the movement of the engines, knew that their hour for action was approaching.