“Now to get out of this mail,” said Seymour; “it’s a little too heavy for general use, though very handy in a scrap. Wilson, just keep your weather eye lifting on deck here, while I get into some decent togs.” Presently the baronet was once more decently clothed, rejoicing in the luxury of clean linen. As for the king, he had perforce to be content with his mail suit, Seymour’s wardrobe containing nothing that would fit his huge limbs, which fact, however, did not inconvenience Chenobi in the least. Their first meal aboard the recovered vessel was one they never forgot. Wilson, ever an adept at the culinary art, had surpassed himself. The saloon table literally groaned beneath the weight of good things; it sparkled with cut-glass and silver. At its head sat the grey-haired scientist, who had left his patient sleeping easily under the influence of a soothing draught. On his right hand sat Seymour and the Ayuti, the latter a strange-looking figure in his armour, amongst the luxurious modern furnishings of the saloon. The electric light gleamed and flashed on his mail at every movement he made, and his jewel, the insignia of his royal rank, which he had not removed, seemed almost to rival in brilliance the glare of the great arc lamp set in the ceiling above. Everything was, of course, very strange to him. Food, vessels, and cutlery were alike unknown to him; yet, realising he must conform to the habits of his new-found friends, if he would dwell with them in their upper world, he laid aside his gauntlets, and closely followed the example of Seymour. On Mervyn’s left sat Wilson, his eyes aglow with delight at being once more aboard his beloved vessel. Judging that the wolf-men were not likely to make another attack for some time, the lad had decided to let the _Seal_ take care of herself for a time, merely locking the turret door as a precaution. So the glasses clinked merrily, and the saloon rang with subdued laughter as the meal went on. Towards the end, Mervyn rose. “Gentlemen,” he began, “we shall all be truly sorry to leave the vessel that has served us so well and faithfully. She has become to us as a dear friend; yet to effect our escape from this underworld, it will be necessary for us to desert her. We shall have to remain aboard awhile, until Haverly is sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey to the crater; then we must say good-bye to the _Seal.”_ “We must sink her before we start inland,” said Seymour. “I should not like to think of the old craft being in the hands of the wolf-men. How long do you think it will be before Silas is anything like himself again?” “I cannot tell,” returned the scientist, huskily. “He has had a very narrow escape from death, but I do not doubt that his splendid constitution will enable him to get about ere long. I shall be eternally in his debt: but for his heroic sacrifice, I should have fallen victim to Nordhu’s murderous hate.”