the nightcap descended. He then selected
other flags, and so animated a conversation
followed, that I, having no personal share in this
flag-flirtation, lay down on the deck, and
endeavoured to go to sleep. I was aroused by the
roll and dash of oars, strongly and regularly
pulled, and an authoritative voice hailed:

"Yacht, there!"

"Hallo!" said Philip.

"Message from the Port-Admiral."'

A twelve-oared barge dashed alongside, and
the person who had hailed – an officer in full
uniform – demanded,

"What yacht is this?"

"The Minnie Jimps, of Cowes."

"I am directed by the Port-Admiral to ask if
you are in distress."

'I think, sir," said Philip, "you are the
bearer of a very extraordinary question,
especially as I have not the honour of the Port-
Admiral's personal acquaintance; but if it would
be any satisfaction to him to know that both my
friend and I are in easy circumstances, I beg
you will say so."

"You misunderstand me, sir," rejoined our
questioner, rather sternly, and standing up in
his barge. "If you are neither in difficulty, nor
an intimate personal friend of Sir Thomas
Turnpipes, what explanation have you to offer of the
extraordinary communications you have been
making to him, and which may probably at this
moment be in course of transmission to the
Admiralty? During this last half-hour, sir, you
have been addressing remarks to the Port-
Admiral which none but a lunatic –"

"Port-Admiral! Sir, I give you my honour,
I –"

"Allow me, sir, to conclude. No sooner do
you arrive off Hyde, than you make signal
('urgent') to speak the admiral. That
distinguished officer attends. Clerks are
summoned, the telegraph is put in requisition, and
the authorities at the Admiralty are warned
that important communications may be
expected. Using the private government code of
signals, you proceed with this inquiry, 'Darling,
how is your naughty toothache?' Sir Thomas,
almost doubting the evidence of his senses,
contents himself with simply replying,
'Unintelligible' and awaits a second signal.
"What follows? 'How is the old cat's temper?'
The Admiral ordered me to take his barge,
and seek an instant explanation of your
conduct."

'I have heard you to the end, sir," said
Philip, who, though greatly astonished, had
recovered his usual self-possession, "and all I
have to say in reply is, that I never entertained
the remotest intention of signalling the Port-
Admiral. My communications were addressed
to – to a totally different authority." And
Philip glanced anxiously in the direction of
Dabchick Villa, which had just thrown out a
new signal.

"You will allow me, sir, to inspect your
signal-book?" said the officer, in a tone
half-question, half-command.

Philip assented, and handed him that work.

"Is it possible, sir," was the next question,
"that you are not aware of the serious
offence you are committing, in availing
yourself of the government's secret signals? How
do you account for the possession of this
book?"

My friend at once replied that he had bought
it of a Jew slopseller, of whom he had been
making some trifling purchases, and who had
produced it, with the corresponding flags, from
a secret drawer, stating that it was a system he
had himself invented.

Our visitor coidd scarcely forbear smiling,
but gave full credence to Philip's ingenuous
confession; and, taking with him the book and
colours, pulled away.

"So much for that adventure!" said Philip,
throwing himself listlessly on the deck, and
swinging his legs over the side. "After all,
Harry, there is a novelty in these little mishaps
that cools and refreshes one. Hallo!" he
continued, drawing up his legs, "confound it. She
is low in the water. I'm wet up to the
knees."

"She must be a deal deeper than when we
left," said I. "We had to climb up to get
on board. Hark! Do you hear anything
funny?"

"There's a gurgling and washing. It's
down stairs. Here, you Toby, jump down and
see what that noise is; and, while you're there,
look for my cigar-case."

Toby, however, merely squinted down the
hatchway, and came back; with his thumb, as
usual, in his mouth.

"Well, sir, what's the matter?" asked
Captain Philip.

Toby did not answer till the question had
been repeated; then, removing his thumb,
quietly ouserved:

"She's going down."

Philip started up.

"Going down? Is there any water in the
cabin?"

"Better nor four foot!" was the alarming
reply.

"Harry, this is serious. Bustle, bustle!"

It was easy to say " bustle," but neither of us
had the most distant idea what step to take,
excepting only that single one which should bring
us to the boat.

"And there's wind a-coming," croaked Toby,
pointing to the distance, where a smart breeze
was already tossing up a sea. "That dingey
ain't no use. In ten minutes there'll be a sea
she can't live in, with us three."

"You imp!" cried Philip, "what do you
mean by talking and doing nothing, with the
squall almost upon us?"

"What can I do? I'm a hurchin," said Toby,
and squatted down in his corner.

I looked at Philip. He was pale, and gazing
with a troubled expression at the augmenting
sea, and the vessels which, in every direction,
were hastily shortening sail. But he was too
proud to speak. I spoke for him.