On the whole the results were remarkably good, taking into consideration the fact that most of the men had not handled a rifle for over a twelve-month. Then, to the surprise of our crew, who were ignorant of its existence, the three-pounder quick firer was unpacked and mounted on the deck amidships, and the "Fortuna," taking up a position at a distance of a mile from the now waterlogged target, prepared to open fire. Three men were detailed off as the gun's crew, and it was a sight to watch them as, stripped to their vests and trousers, they flew at the quick-firer, threw open the breech-block, and placed the long metal cylinder in the gun. The gun-layer bent but for a few seconds over the sights, there was a flash and a sharp deafening report, followed by a slight haze of bluish vapour, and on looking through a telescope towards the target I was just in time to see the flag disappear in a column of spray. "That's good enough for you, old stick, that is!" exclaimed the gun-layer approvingly, as he withdrew the cartridge-case, talking to the gun as if it were a child. "Yes, you've done remarkably well, Hinks," remarked my father. "I don't think we need waste more ammunition." "I pity any niggers that try to work off any of their little tricks on us, sir," replied the seaman, as the gun's crew began to clean the still smoking weapon. The sight of the quick-firer and the small arms had, however, given rise to considerable speculation on the part of the crew, some hinting amongst themselves that, after all, the "Fortuna" might be intended for a pirate or slaver, and that they had been enticed to ship on board under false pretences. I overheard the quartermaster rating them, explaining that the armoury was simply and solely for defensive purposes, and this explanation apparently allayed the faint suspicions they had of the "Fortuna's" mission. Soon after two bells in the first dog-watch (5 p.m.) on the second day after leaving Suez, my father called me on deck. Rapidly overhauling us was a large steamer flying the Turkish flag, her decks packed with a curious swarm of humanity. As she passed we could see, but not read, her name in Arabic characters on her stern. "Lucky we are to windward, sir," remarked the bos'n, indicating the steamship with a contemptuous jerk of the thumb, "or we would nearly be driven below by the stench from her." "Oh! How's that?" "A pilgrim ship bound for Jidda, I'll allow. Half of 'em will be down with the plague unless they are particularly lucky." "Wilkins is quite right in what he has just said," remarked Dr. Conolly, after the bos'n had made his way for'ard. "These ships, taking Mussulman pilgrims between Constantinople and Jidda, the nearest port to Mecca, the holy city of Mohammed, frequently have cases of bubonic plague on board, so that they are a standing menace to the health of Europe. Look! as it is they have left us a legacy."