“But why shouldn’t the public be asked to admire what is really admirable in the Service? Heaven knows, there’s enough of it,” Mr. Alter said. “Your friend’s attitude, if I may say so, was the attitude of the young journalist who despises art, and he is a man even more intolerable than the young artist who despises journalism. Moreover, being confessedly a journalist, he appears to have despised the public--which is absurd. I’m afraid I shouldn’t like your friend.... There’s fineness in the Service that would amaze the world if it were known. Englishmen are eager about the Service, it’s a part of their national life, it’s their proudest tradition--incidentally, they pay for it. They are entitled to know about it. But they will never discover the real good in it so long as you people blind them with the magazine tradition. You must destroy that first. You must stop putting sugar into the wine if you want the vintage to be appreciated.” “You mustn’t blame us, sir,” said Krame, laughing at Mr. Alter’s vehemence. “We don’t write stories; that’s your job.” “Yes; but I live outside the atmosphere. I am no good. But, to be sure, as you say, you don’t write stories, and here am I attacking my hosts. It reminds me of how----” And the conversation drifted into stories of East and West, of land and sea, Mr. Alter being carefully silent when any midshipman showed a disposition to talk. Darkness fell, lights were switched on, and near the time of gin and bitters and the departure of the officers’ boat, John returned. He explained that the Engineer Commander had kept him in the Dockyard. “So I shan’t have a chance to talk to you,” said Mr. Alter. “I must go to London to-night. I have been staying with some Hampshire friends, and thought I would look you up on my way home.” They went out on to the after shelter-deck. “What do you think of the Gunroom, sir?” John asked; “and of the people you met there?” “As for the Gunroom,” Mr. Alter replied, “I have lived in worse quarters--but of my own free will, which makes a difference. The _Hibbert_ lends it dignity and repose.... And I liked Krame and the rest.” “I knew you would.” “Because I’m a civilian?” “For a variety of reasons. I like them myself, oddly enough.... How are Hugh’s people?” “They are going East. I believe that’s fixed.” “And is----” Mr. Alter took no notice of the interruption. “Margaret is going with her mother,” he said. “Oh--I see.... There’s your boat called away. You will have to be going soon. Thanks for coming, and thanks for the books. I wanted them--very badly.” CHAPTER VI STRAIN AND RELIEF I