Luke gave a little laugh which almost expressed a sudden relief. "Don't you remember?" he said. "She is a friend of Mrs. Harrington's, and--and there is Agatha, her daughter." "I remember--stout. Not the daughter, the old woman, I mean. Oh--yes. Where are they going?" "To Malta." It was perfectly obvious, even to Luke, that the Ingham-Bakers' immediate or projective destination was a matter of the utmost indifference to Fitz, who was more interested in the Croonah than in her passengers. They were both conscious of an indefinite feeling of disappointment. This meeting after years of absence was not as it should be. Something seemed to stand between them--a shadow, a myth, a tiny distinction. Luke, with characteristic pessimism, saw it first--felt its chill, intangible presence before his less subtle-minded brother. Then Fitz saw it, and, as was his habit, he went at it unhesitatingly "Gad!" he explained, "I am glad to see you, old chap. Long time, isn't it, since we saw each other? You must come back with me, and have lunch or something. The men will be awfully glad to make your acquaintance. You can look over the ship, though she is not much to look at, you know! Not up to this. She is a fine ship, Luke! What can she steam?" "She can do her twenty," answered the second officer of the Croonah, indifferently. "Yes, she looks it. Well, can you get away now?" Luke shook his head. "No," he answered almost ungraciously, "I can't leave the ship." "What! Not to come and look over the Kittiwake?" Fitz's face fell visibly. He did not seem to be able to realise that any one should be equal to relinquishing without a murmur the opportunity of looking over the Kittiwake. "No, I am afraid not. We have our discipline too, you know. Besides, we are rather like railway guards. We must keep up to time. We shall be under way by two o'clock." Fitz pressed the point no further. He had been brought up to discipline since childhood--moreover, he was rather clever in a simple way, and he had found out that it would be no pleasure but a pain to Luke to board a ship flying the white ensign. "Can I stay on board to lunch with you?" he asked easily. "Goodness only knows when we shall run against each other again. It was the merest chance. We only got in last night. I was just going ashore to report when we saw the old Croonah come pounding in. That"--he paused and drew his cloak closer--"is why I am in my war-paint! We are going straight home." "Stay by all means," said Luke. Fitz nodded. "I suppose," he added as an afterthought, "that I ought to pay my respects to Mrs. Ingham-Baker?" Luke's face cleared suddenly. Fitz had evidently forgotten about Agatha. "I will ask them to lunch with us in my cabin," he said. And presently they left the bridge.