"Certainly," agreed the official, but at the same time he felt rather disappointed. He had been fully prepared to find that Mostyn would jump at the tempting offer. According to what he had heard, Mostyn was a man of action. It rather puzzled him that the Wireless Officer should hesitate to close with the offer of a rattling good post. "Take a day to think things over and then let me know." As soon as the interview was at an end Peter hurried round to consult his older and, perhaps, more experienced chum Preston. He found the Acting Chief sitting in a deck-chair under the veranda of the club-house. Preston, like Mahmed, was making a rapid recovery, and already he was able to walk for a few yards with the aid of a stick. "You silly young blighter!" he exclaimed, when Peter told him of his interview with the Head Commissioner. "Why on earth didn't you jump at it? The pay they're offering you is equal to a cool L800 a year at home, to say nothing of extras chucked in. By Jove! If it had been me---- I suppose there aren't any more plums knocking around for a has-been shellback of forty like me?" "I didn't jump at it, old man," replied Peter slowly. "I couldn't." "Why not?" "On Miss Baird's account," explained Mostyn. "You know I promised to see her safely back to England, and I simply couldn't go back on my word." Preston grunted. "Is she so very keen on going?" he demanded. "From what I've heard and seen I don't think she is. Look here, Mostyn, old son. I'm going to be the Grand Inquisitor for once, being almost old enough to be your father. Are you fond of the girl?" "Yes," replied Peter without hesitation. He was sure on _that_ point. "And is she fond of you?" continued the Grand Inquisitor. "Think so," was the non-committal reply. "Not so sure about it, though," he added. "I think I am," rejoined Preston, with a dry chuckle. "I've been keeping my eye upon the pair of you for some considerable time back. Look here, old son; you're a decent sort of fellow with a clean run an' all that. That's what counts with a girl, after all's said and done. You've been offered a rattling good berth with nothing of the 'blind alley' touch about it. All you want now is a sheet-anchor--a jolly sensible girl as a life-partner; one with whom you're not likely to part brass-rags in less than a twelvemonth. Bit of a mixed metaphor, isn't it; but you know what I mean? That girl is Miss Baird; so don't stand hanging on to the slack. Ask her to be your wife." Peter said nothing. He was very agreeably surprised to hear the hitherto matter-of-fact Acting Chief launching out upon such a subject. "For goodness sake don't think that I'm starting a matrimonial agency stunt, old thing," continued Preston. "I know many a young fellow who's run aground on the rocks 'cause he's been a fool to get spliced without looking ahead. You're different. There, I've had my say. Full speed ahead and you'll win. And good luck to you."