‘This,’ said the Torpedo Lieutenant as he foraged for his cap, ‘is what I joined the Navy for. To dine and meditate with friends.... Damn it, Pay, you’ve pinched my bonnet.’ * * * * * Private Boon, R.M.L.I., knocked at his master’s door. ‘Mr Blake, sir. ’Alf-past seven. Your bath’s ready, sir.’ The sleeper awoke, yawned, and threw one pyjama-clad leg over the bunk board. ‘All right. I’ll be out in a minute,’ he grunted. The private withdrew and Blake turned over and looked at his watch. ‘Um,’ he groaned. ‘Better hurry up, I suppose, or some one will pinch my bath.’ As he slipped on a dressing-gown, a photograph on the table caught his eye. ‘Wonder if “159” has got back yet,’ he mused, as he made his way down the corridor. ‘Ought to be in by now,’ and he disappeared into the bathroom, where sounds of splashing and ‘Miserere’ in a deep bass shortly issued. On his return he found the private of Marines busy in his room. ‘Is “159” back yet, Boon?’ he asked. ‘Not yet, sir. I’ve got Mr Shelldon’s room ready for ’im. But they ain’t back yet, sir.’ A vague uneasiness crept over Blake. What was ‘Snatcher’ doing that he was twelve hours overdue? ‘Oh, rubbish,’ he told himself as he began dressing, ‘I expect he’s been delayed some way or other. Engines broken down or something.’ ‘Yes, boiled eggs in ten minutes’ time, Boon, not too hard, please.’ Breakfast in the _Parentis_ was not what would be called a cheery meal. Conversation was not encouraged, and hilarity of any sort met with frowning disapproval. The sober-minded read newspapers, while their less literary brethren kept their mouths shut except for the necessity of admitting food. When the more senior members of the mess had got to the first pipe stage, the ‘Subs’ departed to muster their crews, and the navigators drifted off to odd jobs. The captains of boats congregated round the fireplace and discussed plans for the day, while the doctor censored letters and the Staff Paymaster busied himself with the wine books. Gradually the groups broke up and the Marines began tidying the room for the morning. In the early hours--at six o’clock to be exact--the ship’s company had been fallen in by the officer of the watch, and under the eagle eye of the First Lieutenant had scrubbed the decks and cleaned the brass till the _Parentis_ shone like a new pin. Alongside her, four on one side and five on the other, were her charges, the submarines, at present in a state of ordered chaos due to work of an extensive and all embracing character. At eight o’clock the crew, mustered in their boats by their respective ‘Subs,’ were told off for the labours of the day, and by five minutes past were all hard at it. The E.R.A.’s were busying themselves in their engine-rooms and the electrical ratings on various jobs that came within their sphere, while the remainder were cleaning all brass and steelwork and were kept at it by the vigilant ‘Subs.’