The Engineer-Commander hesitated. Then he gathered courage. “If I might make a suggestion, sir: in the circumstances, you having spoken to a midshipman--probably the Gunroom is talking about it--would it be wise to make this change at once? And from the disciplinary point of view, sir, to take the midshipmen so suddenly out of Mr. Aggett’s hands might look like--like an aspersion, in the circumstances. A little delay, sir?” The Captain shook his head. “In the circumstances, Engineer-Commander--no delay.” CHAPTER XVII DECISION I When John said to Driss that he had made up his mind, he thought that the decision at which he had arrived was unalterable. If it were possible, he would leave the Service. The resentment he felt against Aggett coloured his dreams of an impossible future, in which he was to be free to learn and to write, free to build, free to love, free to fight at no permanent disadvantage for the possession of whom and what he loved--free as no one of his generation could ever be. But even before relief came by the Captain’s orders he had begun to reconsider his decision, determined that a step so momentous and irretrievable should not be taken in hot blood. By the rules of the Service he, a midshipman, was unable to resign. Midshipmen must be withdrawn by their parents, and this implied that John could act only through his mother. If the responsibility had been his own he would have accepted it at once; for his own needs, and, he thought, the price he would have to pay for their satisfaction, were indeed clear to him. A price, however, would be demanded not of him only. His mother was glad that he was in the Navy, settled in a profession that would provide him with shelter and clothing, food and drink; and now so far advanced in it that in less than two years she would cease to pay the annual fifty pounds demanded by the Admiralty of the parents of midshipmen, and John, receiving the daily five shillings that was the pay of sub-lieutenants, would be able to keep himself. His mother had been so generous to him, had given him so much of the little she possessed, that John could not bear to demand more of her. The education received by him at Osborne and Dartmouth had cost the State more than his mother had paid. If he left the Service before the Service had had time to reap in his labour an interest on its outlay, the Admiralty would justly require of his mother that she should make good at least some part of its loss. She would be forced at last to draw upon that small capital which, for all her need, she had never touched. John knew that the Admiralty, a stern, and yet on occasion a strangely generous department, was sometimes disposed to waive its rights; but he could not imagine his proud mother in the part of the suppliant widow. She would make no appeal for sympathy or exceptional treatment. “They have a right to this money,” she would say, “and they shall have it in full.” And she would add: