“Lord Almighty!” the Sub cried, smiling despite himself, “don’t call me ‘sir.’ Who the deuce taught you to call subs ‘sir’?” “No one.” “I should hope not.... Well, don’t do it again.” “No; I’m sorry.” “And don’t be so bloody polite. This isn’t a dame’s school.... Had some tea?” The Sub pressed a bell that swung from a cord above his head. The pantry-hatch opened with a click, and a pale face appeared--the face of the man in the bowler hat to whom they had yielded place in the picket-boat. “Tea for these officers, messman,” said the Sub. Lynwood and Fane-Herbert exchanged glances, but they were careful to say nothing. They knew that they would be wise to keep the knowledge of their mistake locked away in their own hearts. But Cunwell perceived that he might score a point. “I told you so, Lynwood,” he said, so that all might hear. “What did you tell him?” the Sub asked, wondering if they had been betting against the Sub’s offering them tea. “When we were coming off in the picket-boat,” Cunwell began, “the messman came down at the last moment, and”--Sentley kicked him vigorously, but he continued, nevertheless--“and Sentley and Lynwood and Fane-Herbert thought he was a Wardroom officer, and cleared out for him.” Ollenor, Reedham, and Norgate, the midshipman who had kept the afternoon watch, roared with laughter at this. “That’s good!” the Sub exclaimed. “The Wardroom would rejoice to know that Wickham was mistaken for one of themselves. And you--what’s your name?” “Cunwell.” “And you, Cunwell, what did you do?” “Oh, I went with the rest of them; but, of course, I knew----” “Of course you did. I see we have a smart young officer here, Ollenor, competing for a medal.” The dog-watches passed without event. The Sub having gone to his cabin and the others on to the upper deck, Lynwood was left in the Gunroom with Reedham and Fane-Herbert. They fell at once to a discussion of personalities and prospects, and Reedham, wearing the quiet smile that was habitual to him, answered questions, volunteered information, and gasped at examples of ingenuousness. The Sub, it appeared, was named Winton-Black. Reedham described him as a good enough fellow if ever he did anything--which happened infrequently. He was to leave the ship in a few months’ time, and was careless of what happened in the interval. Almost all his spare time was spent in his cabin, so that he seldom appeared in the Gunroom except for meals. “Then we ought to be all right,” said Fane-Herbert.