"Too early for grub, then," continued Mostyn "We must economize. And with water, too. It's going to be a scorching hot day." He omitted to add that in all probability there would be a stiffish wind before long, possibly increasing to hurricane force. The thundery rain, coming before the wind, pointed to a severe blow before many hours were past. Meanwhile the breeze had dropped until the boat was making less than one knot. Peter had practically shaken off the effects of his prolonged immersion. He was feeling a bit stiff in the limbs, and had developed a healthy hunger. The latter troubled him far more than the stiffness. Work would relieve his cramped arms, but it would also increase the pangs of the inner man. In the light breeze he could safely entrust the helm to one of the lascars, provided he kept his weather eye lifting in case a sudden squall swept down upon the boat. The native might or might not be able to handle a sailing craft, but Peter was resolved to take no risks on that score. He would rather place Olive at the helm, although in the event of danger he meant to stick to the tiller for hours if needs be. "Due east, _mutli_," ordered Mostyn, having signed to the lascar to come aft. The man nodded and repeated the compass course. Since Peter had displayed his automatic the pair of lascars had been remarkably tractable. The Wireless Officer's next step was to rig up a tent to shelter the women from the blazing sun. Calling Mahmed to assist him, he lashed the unshipped mizzen mast to the mainmast just below the goose-neck of the latter, so that the boom could swing out in the event of a gybe without fouling the almost horizontal ridge-pole. The after end of the mizzen was propped up by a crutch made by lashing a couple of boat-stretchers crosswise. Over this was spread the mizzen sail, the ends of the ridge-tent being enclosed by means of the jib and a couple of oilskin jackets. "There you are," declared Peter, surveying the result of the joint handiwork of Mahmed and himself. "You'll be sheltered under the sail. I would advise you both to sleep during the heat of the day." Olive declined, with a smile, adding that she preferred to be in the open air. Mrs. Shallop hardly deigned to acknowledge the effort Mostyn had made for her comfort as far as lay in the resources at his command. She had not been under the tent for more than a minute, when she reappeared holding up a ring-bedecked hand for inspection. "I've lost a diamond out of this ring," she announced in a loud voice; "and it's a valuable one. It cost a sovereign." Peter could not help smiling. "Whatever can one do with a female like that?" he soliloquized. "The loss of a twopenny-halfpenny stone is of more consequence to her than the chance of losing her life." Contriving to conceal his amusement he replied: "It can't have gone very far, Mrs. Shallop, if you had it in the boat. We'll probably find it under the bottom-boards."