"... Darned bunch of tricks aft.... How was I to know.... Scared blue ... torpedo ... prisoners.... Blamed inventors...." "Translate," said Sir William. The Lieutenant-Commander coughed apologetically. "He's peevish," he said. "Thought it was us blowing up at first. Wants to know why we wasted a torpedo: thinks he could have captured her and taken the crew prisoners if we'd left it to him." "Silly ass!" from the First Lieutenant. "How could we let him know he was playing round with a Fritz? If we'd shown ourselves Fritz would have torpedoed us!" "I appreciate the compliment," began Sir William, "that he implies to my device, but, as a matter of fact, I hardly think the apparatus is sufficiently perfect yet----" The Lieutenant-Commander laughed rather brutally. "He isn't paying compliments. He went on to say he didn't want the assistance of--er--new inventions to bag a Fritz once he's sighted him." The First Lieutenant came quickly to the rescue. "Of course," he said, "that's all rot. We're only too grateful to--to Science for trying to invent a new gadget.... Only, you see, sir, in the meanwhile, _until_ you hit on it we feel we aren't doing so badly--er--just carrying on." CHAPTER VIII "ARMA VIRUMQUE ..." The Flagship's Wardroom and the smoking-room beyond were packed to suffocation by a dense throng of officers. The Flagship was "At-Home" to the Fleet that afternoon on the occasion of the Junior Officers' Boxing Tournament which was being held onboard, and a lull in the proceedings had been the signal for a general move below in quest for tea. Hosts and guests were gathered round the long table, standing in pairs or small groups, and talking with extraordinary gusto. Opportunities of intercourse between ships are rare in War-time. Save for an occasional visitor to lunch or dinner, or a haphazard meeting on the golf-links, each ship or flotilla dwelt a little community apart. On occasions such as this, however, the vast Fleet came together; Light Cruiser met Destroyer with a sidelong jerk of the head and a "Hullo, Old Thing..." that spanned the years at a single leap; Submarine laughed across the room at Seaplane-carrier; Mine-sweeper and Mine-layer shared a plate of sandwiches with a couple of Sloops and discussed the boxing; but they were no more than a leavening amid the throng of "big-ship folk" who reckoned horse-power by the half hundred thousand and spoke of guns in terms of the 15-inch.