The seemliness of the place was the seemliness of a schoolboy, who, being dressed for a midnight escapade, jumps into bed boots and all as he hears the master’s step near the dormitory door. The newspapers and magazines were thrust together into a pile, from which, as specimens of the whole, the title-pieces of _Punch_ and the _Morning Post_ had been made to protrude. The _Winning Post_, which was not hidden even for the Captain’s Sunday inspections, and _La Vie Parisienne_ and _Le Rire_, which were decently covered on such occasions, were now not to be seen--unless the inquisitive eye perceived one of them poking out its thumbed edges from beneath the leather cushions of the settee. And on the pile’s summit, chosen to occupy so conspicuous a position by Krame’s quick spirit, lay the _Hibbert Journal_ that Elstone had long ago received from a kinswoman who “thought, my dear, you might care to pass your long watches with some magazines,” and a copy of the _Daily Chronicle_, which had been hastily borrowed from Wickham, the messman, in case, as Krame remarked, old Alter had Radical tendencies. “This is Mr. Wingfield Alter,” said Reedham. “He has come to see Lynwood and Fane-Herbert.” “How d’you do?” said the senior midshipman. “My name is Krame. This is Elstone--Howdray--Driss. I’m afraid Fane-Herbert is ashore on leave, and won’t be back till dinner. Lynwood is in the Dockyard with the Engineer Commander. They were expected back before Quarters. They may be here at any moment now.... Will you sit down and wait?” “Thanks.... There’s one thing, though.” He turned to Reedham. “Perhaps you would manage it for me? Would you ask the officer of the watch if I may go ashore in the officers’ boat, and if he says I may, will you pay off my boatman with this?” Reedham took the money. After a moment’s hesitation, seeing no opportunity to convey Mr. Baring’s warning, and, indeed, feeling no inclination to do so, he went out of the Gunroom, not a little envious of those who might remain. It is exciting to see the Name that for years has stared at you from advertisements, and has twinkled at you from the gilt-lettered backs of books, come suddenly to life, take off its hat, put down its bag, and seat itself in your chair. The Name, by coming to life, assumes responsibility for many illusions.