In this exalted world one met Staff-Captains, Staff-Commanders, Staff-Lieutenants, and Secretaries, with Paymasters so senior that they almost ranked with Admirals.  There were Warrant Officers, too, who long ago gave up splashing about decks barefoot, and now check and issue stores to the ravenous, untruthful fleets.  Said one of these, guarding a collection of desirable things, to a cross between a sick-bay attendant and a junior writer (but he was really an expert burglar), “No! An’ you can tell Mr. So-and-so, with my compliments, that the storekeeper’s gone away—­right away—­with the key of these stores in his pocket.  Understand me?  In his trousers pocket.”

He snorted at my next question.

“Do I know any destroyer-lootenants?” said he.  “This coast’s rank with ’em!  Destroyer-lootenants are born stealing.  It’s a mercy they’s too busy to practise forgery, or I’d be in gaol.  Engineer-Commanders?  Engineer-Lootenants?  They’re worse!...  Look here!  If my own mother was to come to me beggin’ brass screws for her own coffin, I’d—­I’d think twice before I’d oblige the old lady.  War’s war, I grant you that; but what I’ve got to contend with is crime.”

I referred to him a case of conscience in which every one concerned acted exactly as he should, and it nearly ended in murder.  During a lengthy action, the working of a gun was hampered by some empty cartridge-cases which the lieutenant in charge made signs (no man could hear his neighbour speak just then) should be hove overboard.  Upon which the gunner rushed forward and made other signs that they were “on charge,” and must be tallied and accounted for.  He, too, was trained in a strict school.  Upon which the lieutenant, but that he was busy, would have slain the gunner for refusing orders in action.  Afterwards he wanted him shot by court-martial.  But every one was voiceless by then, and could only mouth and croak at each other, till somebody laughed, and the pedantic gunner was spared.

“Well, that’s what you might fairly call a naval crux,” said my friend among the stores.  “The Lootenant was right.  ’Mustn’t refuse orders in action.  The Gunner was right.  Empty cases are on charge.  No one ought to chuck ’em away that way, but....  Damn it, they were all of ‘em right!  It ought to ha’ been a marine.  Then they could have killed him and preserved discipline at the same time.”

A LITTLE THEORY

The problem of this coast resolves itself into keeping touch with the enemy’s movements; in preparing matters to trap and hinder him when he moves, and in so entertaining him that he shall not have time to draw clear before a blow descends on him from another quarter.  There are then three lines of defence:  the outer, the inner, and the home waters.  The traffic and fishing are always with us.