It was a large room, with a fireplace and the far end completely windowed, bow-shaped, under which ran a verandah round the stern of the ship, where grew potted geraniums. In the sunlit air above the wind-flecked water, small seagulls cried and hovered. The water threw a shimmering reflection on to the white ceiling. By a table, on which stood a silver portrait frame, a small bookrest holding novels, a "Who's Who" and an "Army Guide," was a baby grand piano. A red carpet covered the large floor up to the pilastered fireplace. All this John saw in a glance before looking into the face of the man, who stood, his back to a large flag-dotted map of the North Sea, holding out his hand, his face puckered in a pleasant smile. He was a small man, with dark penetrating eyes, a thin-lipped wide mouth, with corners that suggested a vivid sense of humour. The nose was slightly hooked, and John immediately recognised the striking resemblance to his brother, a Hampshire vicar who had stayed with the Marshs. But if the great position and fame of the man before him made him nervous, it was immediately dispelled by the kindness of the voice, and the charm of his personality. For twenty minutes they talked, their conversation touching many points of common interest, and on this occasion only briefly upon the work of the new correspondent. Every minute an anxious officer looked into the room, but the Chief ignored his hint of fretful persons without. At the end, another warm handshake and John passed out. Back on his own ship again, he was assailed and made to satisfy the general curiosity concerning "the Old Man." Thus he entered upon a new era of experience, and watched Spring give place to Summer in the chilly northern waters; and upon the precipitous cliffs of the lonely islands saw the bird life, indifferent to mankind invading its hitherto unmolested domain. III