"We've hit something, sir," said Pardoe, who was on the poop. They had, and for some hours remained stuck fast. In fact, the _Puffin's_ bones would have been there to this day if she had not been steaming at her leisurely, economical speed of 7 1/2 knots, and it was only by sheer good luck, and with the assistance of salvage tugs and appliances from Hong-Kong, that she was ever got off at all. As it was she was merely badly damaged, and came back into harbour in tow of one tug, while a couple of others, with their pumps working at full speed and gushing forth streams of water, were lashed alongside her. Falland was not court-martialled, but a week later Commander Potvin, after an interview with the Admiral and certain medical officers, found that the climate of Hong-Kong was too rigorous for his constitution, and embarked on board a P. and O. steamer for passage home to England _en route_ for Yarmouth. The gunboat's officers watched her until she was out of sight, and then repaired to the wardroom and indulged in cocktails. "I'm sorry for him," said No. One, lifting his glass with a grin. "Here's luck to him, and to us." "Salve," nodded the doctor, swallowing his potion at a gulp. The Royal Naval Hospital for mental cases is situated at Yarmouth. [1] The commanding officer of a man-of-war, whatever his rank, is always "the captain." More familiarly he may be referred to "the owner," "skipper," or "old man."