Plover had no idea that Mostyn was down with malaria, and it was not unusual for him to find Peter lying on his bunk when off duty. "Call for the ship, sir," he reported. "No bloomin' error this time. SVP as sure's my name's Plover." Mostyn kicked off the blankets and rolled out of the bunk. He staggered as he stood up, and would have been glad of Plover's assistance. But the Watcher, having delivered his message, had gone back to his post. With a terrific buzzing in his ears Peter almost dragged himself along the alleyway and up the bridge-ladder. Many a time he had regretted the absence of a second wireless officer. Now, above everything, he wanted an efficient substitute; but, of course, none was available. Entering the wireless-cabin, he picked up the telephones and gave the acknowledgment. Then, a pencil in his trembling hand, he waited for the text of the message to come through: "SW. TLB. FEW. CNI. TLXQ. VP AELD TNI PU. AEMQ". Yes, Peter had that all right, but, ever on the cautious side, he asked for the message to be repeated. "Here you are," he said, handing the duplicate message to his assistant. "Nip off with that to Captain Bullock." "Don't you look rummy, sir?" remarked Plover, noting for the first time Mostyn's drawn features. "Am a bit," admitted Peter. "I'll be all right by the morning. Skip along." Watcher Plover "skipped along" at his usual stolid pace to the Old Man's cabin, while Peter, almost incapable of controlling his trembling limbs, somehow contrived to regain his bunk. "Signal just come through, sir," reported Plover, as he handed the pencilled form to the skipper. "All right," replied the Old Man brusquely. "Hand me that book; the second on the left. That'll do, carry on." It did not take Captain Bullock long to decode the message, but a frown of perplexity spread over his forehead as he read the momentous words. Then he rang the bell and ordered Plover to return. "Who received this?" he asked. "Mr. Mostyn, sir; he had the signal repeated." "All right. You may go." The assurance that the Wireless Officer had personally taken down the code message removed all doubts from Captain Bullock's mind. "Mr. Preston," he sang out. "Ay, ay, sir," "Fresh orders," announced the Old Man. "Here you are: 'I have received telegraphic instructions from your owners for you to proceed straight to Bulonga, where you will unload steelwork, proceeding thence to Port Sudan'. Bring me the chart of the Mozambique coast, Preston, and let's see where we are--and the sailing directions while you are about it." The Acting Chief hastened to fetch the required articles. "Bulonga--that's in Mozambique," commented the Old Man. "What the blazes the Kilba Protectorate people want to have the steelwork dumped there for goodness only knows. However, it's my place to carry out instructions, Mr. Preston."