without warning. All this and much else is accessible to the formal
historian; besides, Reginald tells people himself. We will hurry on to the
grand exploit.

It occurred shortly after he was appointed to a post on the British Naval
Mission at Athens. He had left England little more than a month when the
Sea Lords became uneasy. Trouble broke out among the torpedoes and there
was no one to set matters right. Paragraphs began to appear in the Press.
The result was an urgent wireless message to Athens recalling Reginald at
once. There was to be no delay.

"Are you prepared to start immediately?" asked the Vice-Admiral, when he
had briefly outlined the situation.

Reginald saluted briskly.

"I don't quite know how you'll go," continued the Vice-Admiral. "We haven't
an armed ship sailing West for a week. There's a little Greek trading
steamer leaving for Marseilles to-morrow morning, but I'm afraid you would
find her very incommodious. Would you care to risk it?"

"I start in the morning, Sir," said Reginald tersely.

The Vice-Admiral seized his hand and wrung it warmly.

When Reginald came down to the harbour and saw the craft on which he had
undertaken to embark he was seized with a sudden faintness. Even the
toughest seafarer would have thought twice before venturing beyond the
breakwater in such an unsavoury derelict; and Reginald, be it remembered,
had only once in his life made a sea voyage, and that in the peaceful