"He's a harmless young enthusiast," remarked Captain Brookes to Gerald, as the aviator turned his attention to the rescued monoplane. "You might take him in hand and show him those parts of the ship that are of no particular importance. As soon as his craft is all ship-shape, we'll start him on his journey. By the bye, I hear that the Turkish fleet is still in the Golden Horn, and that nothing is likely to transpire for a few days. What do you say to a run across to Malta?" "I should be glad of the opportunity, if no inconvenience is caused." "There will be none. Sinclair is going, so if you care to take your friend, Stockton, now's the opportunity. The cutter will take you into Catania, whence a steamer plies regularly to Valetta." Tregarthen and Stockton had barely fifteen hours ashore at Malta, but not a minute was wasted. Gerald had a previous knowledge of the island, and was thus able to pilot his chum. His chief object in making the trip was to procure a lieutenant's uniform. Now that the Admiralty had given the sanction to Gerald's presence on the _Olive Branch_ he felt he could with propriety wear the uniform of his rank. So directly he landed at Valetta he hurried to a naval outfitter's, where by dint of promises of liberal payment he prevailed upon the Maltese tailor to have the uniform ready at the expiration of twelve hours. "There's no time to be lost if we are to stop this business," was Captain Brookes's greeting on Gerald's return. "The Turkish fleet has cleared the Dardanelles at last. Turn in and take a good night's rest, for I'm sure you want it." "One moment, sir--how's the airman?" "Oh, he's a nuisance. Makes out he can't get his engine to work smoothly. I believe it's only an excuse to hang on. However, it can't be helped; I can't pitch him out at a minute's notice, so I've had the monoplane unrigged and stowed away beneath the armoured deck. After this business is over we can land him if he's still unable to fly. Look, there he is, talking to Palmer. By the bye, he seems very fond of that young fellow. Now, off you go, Mr. Tregarthen, for by sunrise to-morrow we may be cleared for action." [Illustration: chapter XXI] CHAPTER XXI THE MISSING WIRELESS GEAR THE narrow waters of the strait between Negropont and Andros presented an unwonted spectacle to the crew of the _Olive Branch_ as they stood at general quarters.