The weather was still cold, but the wind had moderated considerably, coming off the land. The Bay was on its best behaviour, and consequently the passengers, who were beginning to find their sea-legs, were wandering farther afield than the limited expanse between the saloon and their respective cabins. The notice on the Old Man's door, "Don't knock, come in", had disappeared. Captain Bullock had seen to that. It served its purpose when the ship was getting ready for sea, but once the passengers came on board the brusque invitation vanished. Although the air without was raw it was cosy and warm inside the cabin. The radiators, heated by steam from the boilers, kept the apartment at an even temperature, while, as a concession to appearances, a fire glowed in a polished, brass-mounted grate. Only no heat came from that fire: it was a dummy, composed of coloured paper rolled into loose balls and packed around an electric-light bulb. It had a comforting look, and frequently visitors to the Old Man's cabin stood on the hearthrug enjoying the heatless glow in utter ignorance of the fact that no fire burned in that polished brass grate. Over the door and scuttles the dark-blue baize curtains had been drawn. The electric light had been switched off, and only the red glow from the grate faintly illuminated the cabin. Captain Bullock lay in his bunk, raising his head occasionally to sip at a stiff glass of special Scotch. From early morn to midnight he was a rigid teetotaller Even at dinner the decanters passed by him untouched, but every night, even in the hottest weather, his steward mixed a uniformly strong glass of whisky, hot water, and lemon. Generally the Old Man was quickly asleep, but to-night he felt wakeful. Not as a rule a deep thinker--he was essentially a man of action--he found himself pondering over various matters. He was beginning to realize that this was his last voyage. On the _West Barbican's_ return to London he was to relinquish his command and retire on pension. How he hated the idea! The sea was part of his being. No one knew the call of the deep more than he. True, at times, he had been "fed up" with the sea, but those were only passing moods. Some men looked forward to superannuation from the time they entered seriously into the battle of life. They had visions of peaceful if not luxurious retirement, living happily and contentedly on their hard-earned pensions. "And usually," thought Captain Bullock, "they are dead in a couple of years--rusted out through sheer idleness."