The paw draws back. “Bah! You are right,” the master goes on. “It is late. In a quarter of an hour we shall eat. Come up on the bridge. We will take the air.” I take Jimmino, warm and soft, up on my shoulder, where he weighs nothing. He settles himself, snuggles against my ear which he tickles. He trembles at my rapid course along the corridors, up the companion ways, to the height of the bridge. The twilight is marvelous with its soft and delicate shades of color. “What news?” I say to the officer of the watch. “Nothing.... The same old story.” “Any interesting messages?” “None! Communiqués from Eiffel, Norddeich, Poldhu. The cruisers have nothing to say. Go read the memorandum.” I hasten to read the book of telegrams, glancing over the hundred or two hundred messages of the day. It is the same strain as yesterday, and as it will be to-morrow. “Left Navaria at 2 P.M.,” says this one. “I count on finishing coaling this evening,” says another. “I am on my way to Bizerta,” says a third, and so on for four pages. “Well,” says the officer of the watch. “You see there is nothing.” “It’s queer. The _Gambetta_ has not spoken to-day.” “There was probably nothing to announce.” “It should have signaled its daily position this morning.” “Wireless damaged perhaps.” “Perhaps. All the same it has said nothing since 9 o’clock last night.” “Have any of the cruisers called her?” “Yes! And she has not responded.” “You are sure?” “Go and see. I will watch in your place.” Five minutes later my comrade returns, after running over, examining and considering the four pages of messages. “You are right,” he says. “It is strange. However, nothing has happened to her. She would always have had time to signal S. O. S. That doesn’t take two seconds.” “That’s true. But all the same, she should have replied to the ships that called her.” “She was wrong. We shall see to-morrow.” I go down to dinner. On my chair Jimmino, crouched like a sphinx, is waiting for bits from my meal. Our assembly is not very noisy. We comment upon the end of the day, and the doctor receives placidly the usual pleasantries. The conversation turns listlessly on Turkish affairs. Why is there no animation? The officers who are going to take the watch rise to put on their uniforms for the night. We greet them in the familiar way as they pass out. “A good watch to you, old man! Keep your eyes open!” “Don’t delay us!” “You know I’m taking the Paris express this evening.” “If you see a submarine try not to waken me.” “And then,” I added, “let me know if there is a message from the _Gambetta_.” “Why?” “She has not spoken for nearly twenty-four hours.” “The deuce!” murmured the assembly. “What has happened to her?” The game tables are set up, for dominoes, chess, bridge; the smokers light their pipes; the readers open their paper; others stretch out on the cushions. Interpretations are offered concerning the silence of the _Gambetta_. “Accident to the wireless....”