Overhead the purr of a high-power motor, followed by another and another, told that the seaplanes, their work completed, were returning to their distant aerodrome, and another burst of cheering greeted their appearance. ‘By God,’ said a bearded gun-layer, gazing after them wistfully. ‘Lucky dogs, them blokes. See all the scrappin’ like. And we didn’t ’ave a ruddy shot. Not one, we didn’t.’ ‘All boats returned and made fast alongside, sir,’ reported the First Lieutenant, knocking at the Captain’s door. ‘Pipe down, please,’ called Captain Charteris. ‘And good-night, Martin.’ ‘Good-night, sir.’ Then the voices broke out again as the men fell out, and the boats’ crews came up over the side. Down below they trooped in knots and bunches until only the officers remained. For’ard a gunner was encouraging a three-pounder whose breach-block had turned peevish; on the quarter-deck the boat captains were comparing notes of their manœuvres and laughing over the experiences of the night. By-and-by they had all gone below and were sitting in cabins, on each other’s bunks and tables, talking at the top of their voices and laughing over their misadventures. The noise subsided and the lights went out in cabins and mess-decks. Silence settled down once more, and the ship was again in the possession of the watch-keepers. The moon had gone in and it was quite dark by now, save for that yellow glare, gradually fading and dying down, where the Zeppelin had met her ghastly death. The officer of the watch continued his pacing up and down, and once more fell into a reflective mood. ‘Oh, well. Life wasn’t so awful after all. Might be worse. Those poor beggars in the airship must have had a rotten two or three minutes. Perhaps if I try again I may get a boat after all. The show went off all right to-night. Skipper couldn’t grumble, anyway. Think I’ll wait a month and then have another shot.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Five minutes to four. That’s one way of passing a middle watch at any rate. Can’t reckon on it every night, though.’ He yawned wearily and turned up the collar of his coat. Over the crest of the hill the glare of the dying Zeppelin wavered a little, faded, flickered, and went out. THE DOCKYARD A CHANTY I A ship once came to Plymouth Hoe. (_Chorus_) Heave away, my bullies. A ship once came to Plymouth Hoe, And they furled her sails in a harbour stow, ’Ere they sent them down and the yards also. (_Chorus_) Heave away for Plymouth. II They lashed her gear and hove her keel. (_Chorus_) Heave away, my bullies. They lashed her gear and hove her keel, And scraped and painted her as taut as steel. (_Chorus_) Heave away for Plymouth. III