Ten minutes to twelve; a savoury smell from the cook's galley. Suppose _déjeuner_ will be served as soon as we leave the dock. Heard a good deal of superiority of French cooking aboard ship as compared with British. Some compensation after all for getting up early, swallowing cup of coffee and bread and butter, and rushing off to catch at ten o'clock a ship that sails at noon. Perhaps the cloth is laid now; better go and secure places. Find saloon. Captain and officers at breakfast, their faces illumined with the ecstasy born to a Frenchman when he finds an escargot on his plate. Evidently they are breakfasting in good time so as to take charge of the ship whilst _nous autres_ succeed to the pleasures of the table. What's our hour, I wonder? Find some one who looks like a steward; ask him; says, "_Cinq heures et demie_." A little late that for breakfast, I diffidently suggest. Explains not breakfast but dinner; first meal at 5.30 P.M. Can't we have _déjeuner_ if I pay for it? I ask, ostentatiously shaking handful of coppers in trousers-pocket. No, he says, severely; that's against the _règlement_. Steamer starts in seven minutes; noticed at dock-gates women with baskets of dubious food; dash off to buy some; clutch at a plate of sandwiches, alleged to be compacted of _jambon de York_. Get back just as gangway is drawn up. Sit on deck and munch our sandwiches. "I know that Ham," said Sark, moodily. "It came out of the Ark." Recommitted it to the waves, giving it the bearings for Ararat. Ate the bread and wished half-past five or Blucher would come. * * * * * A lovely day in Marseilles; not a breath of wind stirred the blue water that laved the white cliffs on which Château d'If stands. Shall have a lovely passage. Make ourselves comfortable on deck with cushions and books. Scarcely outside the harbour when a wind sprang up from S.E. dead ahead of us. The sea rose with amazing rapidity; banks of leaden-hued clouds obscured the sun-light; then the rain swished down; saloon deck cleared; passengers congregated under shelter in the saloon; as the cranky little steamer rolled and pitched, the place emptied. When at 5.30 the dinner-bell rang, only six took their places, and all declined soup. With the darkness the storm rose. If the ship could have made up its mind either to roll or to pitch, it could have been endured. It had an agonising habit of leaping up with apparent intent to pitch, and, changing its mind, rolling over, groaning in every plank. Every third minute the nose of the ship being under water, and the stern clear out, the screw leaped full half-length in the air, sending forth blood-curdling sounds. Midway came a fearsome crash of crockery, the sound reverberating above the roar of the wind, and the thud of the water falling by tons on the deck, making the ship quiver like a spurred horse. "I begin to understand now," said Sark, "how the walls of Jericho fell."