The genial intermediary interjected with apparent sternness--

"Captains, you must apologize for the crime you have committed, and be
thankful that you are going to be dealt leniently with. The Admiral
is right: you deserved to be blown up with your ship. But apologize
suitably, and leave the rest to me."

All but the last sentence was interpreted to the gallant official. An
apology was made, and silently accepted; but the real penalty was not
disclosed to the captains until afterwards, and then it was kept
secret by them and by the two contracting parties. The two commanders,
when being congratulated on their release, said they did not know what
all the fuss was about. They had done no harm to anybody, and if
hostilities were resumed they hoped the Turks would wipe the Russians
off the field, and so on.

Three stirring months passed before the _Claverhouse_ returned to
----. When she arrived at the gunboat guarding the torpedo channel,
she took a pilot, and proceeded into the harbour in a law-abiding
manner, while her captain, audibly and inaudibly, declaimed against a
Government whose barbarous notions led them to impose restrictions
that caused expense and interrupted the normal process of navigation.
"What right have these beastly Russians to hamper British shipping
like this?"

When the captain landed he was met by several friends, who cheerfully
inquired if he had found another new channel into the port. He
jokingly retorted--

"No; but I might have to find a new one out."