PRO LOGU E Q

duced for the first time. The talk, so far as Mr. Golspie
had any part in it, was conducted in a fantastic mixture
of English, German, and the ship's own Baltic language,
a mixture it would be impossible to reproduce here, but
it went very well, smashing its way through the entangle-
ments of irregular verbs and doubtful substantives, for
nothing removes the curse of Babel like food, drink,
and good-fellowship. All four grew expansive, bellowed
confidences, roared through the fog of cigar smoke,
threw back their heads to laugh, and were gods for an
hour.

"Very soon we shall meet again," said the captain to
Mr. Golspie, clinking glasses for the third time. "Is
that not so, my friend?"

"Leave it to me, my boy/' replied Mr. Golspie, very
flushed, with tiny beads of perspiration on that massive
bald front of his.

"You come back when you have finished your busi-
ness here in London?"

"As to that, I can't say. If I can, I will."

"That is good," said the captain. Then he looked
very deep, and put a finger as big as a pork sausage to
his forehead. "And now you will tell us what this busi-
ness is, eh? In secret. We will not tell,"

The chief engineer tugged at the ends of his mous-
tache, which was nearly as large as Mr. Golspie's, and
tried to look even deeper than the captain, like the re-
pository of innumerable commercial secrets.

"I say this," cried the huge first mate, who was in no
condition now to wait until his opinion had been asked.
"I say this. It is good business. It is for the good of our
country. I drink to you," he shouted, and promptly did
so, with the result that he immediately remembered that