The custom house official started and looked intently into Mr. Armitage's face. Then with an exclamation of surprise he flung his arms round the Scoutmaster's neck, and to the amusement of the crew, kissed him on both cheeks. "_Ma foi,_" he exclaimed, "_c' est le capitaine de vaisseau_ Armitage. I am charmed to see you again, monsieur, but I failed to recognize you. No, the search is unnecessaire. I vill sign your papairs _tout de suite_." He went with the Scoutmaster into the after cabin. "Queer bird that," remarked Hepburn. "Fancy one man kissing another." "Custom of the country, I suppose," rejoined Roche. "Wonder how he knew Mr. Armitage?" The question was answered after the douanier had taken his departure. "I met Jules when I was in R.N.V.R.," explained Mr. Armitage. "Our M.L.'s frequently put into Cherbourg, and as we generally had plenty of provisions on board and people ashore here were on very short allowances, we were made most welcome. Now, lads, we have to wait until nine o'clock before the dock gates open, so suppose we pipe all hands to breakfast." "Fine idea, sir," replied Hepburn, who was always a good trencherman. "It is," rejoined Mr. Armitage. "So you can nip ashore, Alan, and get some bread. The bakers open early here. Take this money. I took the precaution of getting Jules to change some for me." He handed Hepburn a roll of papers, which at first sight looked like a bundle of Treasury notes. Actually these were franc notes, each of the value of about fivepence or sixpence. Thrusting the money into his pocket, Alan swarmed up the ladder against the quay. At the top he paused and looked down upon his chums. "I'm the first of you fellows to set foot on French soil at all events," he remarked proudly. Then making his way between a crowd of interested waterside loafers, Hepburn set off on his quest. It did not take him long to find a baker's shop. He kept his eyes open for the word "_boulangerie_", and his sense of smell on the alert for the appetizing odour of new bread. Alan was rather proud of his French. He had gained two prizes at school for his knowledge of that language, but when he found himself confronted by a portly pleasant-faced woman he was literally tongue-tied. "Let me see," he soliloquized desperately; "what was that wheeze old Patinot taught us: If you eat new bread you'll have an 'ache'. Yes, that's it; ache is the French for bread--_Deux aches, s'il vous plaît, madame._" Madame looked decidedly puzzled and shook her head. "Oh, dash it all!" ejaculated the Sea Scout. "It wasn't ache; it was pain--same thing, only different: _Deux pains, s'il vous plaît._" This time Madame was pleased to understand, and Alan was the recipient of a couple of loaves of about four inches in diameter and nearly a yard in length. Triumphantly Hepburn carried his purchases back to the quay, and threw them into the outstretched arms of Warkworth.