"Eh, what's that?" asked Trevear, raising his eyebrows and simulating an air of complete ignorance. "I want you to tell me exactly how he got into the ditch," declared Bobby. "You know that much, then?" rejoined Trevear. "Non, non. Taisez-vous; c'est defendu de puller mon hair (that was an aside addressed to his charges, who, finding themselves ignored, reasserted their presence by tugging vigorously at the ex-airman's closely-cropped hair). All right, then; s'pose I'm no longer bound to secrecy. While we were lying alongside the Frenchman, young Dick spotted someone in the water--one of the Arab crowd. Before I knew what he was up to--I thought he was going to sling the fellow a coil of rope--he took a turn round his waist with the end of a line and jumped overboard. Pete and I hiked him back in double quick time, 'cause the Arab fellow was trying to drag him under. Yes, we got the pair of 'em just as a brute of a shark turned on his back and showed his ugly jaws. Gave me a bit of a turn, and I fancy young Dick had the wind up after it was all over. That youngster's got some pluck, old son." Trevear would doubtless have held to his compact with Dick Beverley, but it was obvious that the secret would out, as Pete had been a witness of the affair. The negro had already told O'Loghlin and Swaine, and they, in turn, had communicated the news of the exploit to others. Bobby returned to his cabin. Dick, having completed the tidying-up process, had turned in. His brother went to the side of the bunk. "Dick," he said softly. "You're a silly young ass, but I'm proud of you." It was broad daylight when Bobby Beverley awoke to find Pete standing by his bunk with a cup of tea. Already the air was insufferably hot, in spite of the fact that the port-hole was wide open and an electric fan running. Without, the sun beat fiercely down, its hot rays glancing obliquely from the mirror-like surface of the water. On deck the tramp of many feet showed that the survivors of the catastrophe were giving signs of activity. Looking at the clock, Bobby saw that he had but twenty minutes before going on deck to take over his watch. A plunge into a bath of tepid water, shaving and dressing, occupied half the allotted time; then, making a hurried breakfast, the watch-keeping officer went on deck. The _Titania_ was approaching Massowah, somewhat to the discontent of many of the ex-passengers of the _Cité d'Arras_, who wanted to be landed at the French colony of Obock farther down the coast and just below the Bab el Mandeb. But Harborough had decided otherwise. The objection to calling at Aden applied equally well to putting into Obock, so willy-nilly the survivors had to accept the hospitality of the Italian colony until they found means of resuming their interrupted journeys.