“Might just as well leave me mine, who know the ship! My shaft is broken, my boilers are falling to bits!” “Pooh! You’ll get on all right!” “But coal? And provisions?” “Go ahead; you can provision on the way if necessary. You are needed in Morocco.” “To do what?” “You will receive orders.” “Can you let me have charts for Morocco? I have only those of America and Europe.” “We’ll see. I don’t believe there are any left. We gave them all to the battleships.” “I haven’t any wireless.” “What’s the need? Are you afraid of meeting the Germans. We are guarding the routes.” “And my five thousand bales of cotton?” “No use to us! Please hold yourself in readiness to get under way at six o’clock, as soon as you have received your reservists. Do you understand?” “All right.” “Send all going ashore into my launch smartly. I still have three ships to deal with.” Muriac, Blangy, and the men packed in five secs., believe me. They were in such a hurry that they hadn’t time to shake hands. What can have become of the beggars? “This is a nice game,” says Fourgues to me when we were alone again. “You can take charge of the engines and we will take the watch by turns--the two of us--unless they send us some one who knows starboard from port. Hurry up! Go and write home--I’m going to do the same. It’s two years since I’ve seen my wife and the children at Orange. And you, poor devil of an engaged man! Oh, well, it doesn’t matter! I’m quite happy. They’ll find the old _Pamir_ can account for herself.” He shook hands. We both wanted to weep. To start like that, with a damned dislocated ship! We went below; he wrote to Orange, I wrote to La Rochelle--not much, you know; just to say that we were there and to address letters c/o the Admiralty with “Please forward” in large letters on the envelope. And then the reservists arrived. What in Fortune’s name had they sent us! I can see now why they keep the “active service” reservists in the Navy. The others are too much of a good thing! For the deck, there was a _croupier_ from Deauville, a tram-driver, a newsvendor, a shopman, a cabby; for the engine-room, a hotel lift-boy, a cinema man, three carriers, a bill-poster, a cattle-dealer, and three others of the same sort. What do they remember about the sea? They arrived, stupid, fat, and full of questions. We shoved ’em along proper! The lift-boy and the movie-man are to take duty in the boiler-room, the driver will steer, the movie-man also runs the dynamo. I forgot a _chef_ of the Hotel Romantic at Monte Carlo! We bagged him for the officers’ table. If he can do anything with beans and bully beef he’s a wonder! As to Fabrice, whom you may remember--little Fafa who made such good cocktails at Galveston--he went forward again.