stimulated by glittering visions of vast wealth presently to be
showered upon me from the swelling coffers of a grateful Admiralty.
During periods of more or less temporary financial embarrassment
I would mention these expectations to my tailor and other restless
tradespeople of my acquaintance. "Fourteen millions--prize-money, you
know," I would say confidentially; "may come in at any time now." I
found this had a soothing effect upon them.

As the seasons rolled by, however; as summer and winter ran their
appointed courses and again the primrose pranked the lea unaccompanied
by any signs of vernal activity on the part of the Paymaster-in-Chief,
these visions of mine became less insistent. I was at length obliged
to confess that another youthful illusion was fading; prize-money
began to take its place in my mind along with the sea-serpent and
similar figures of marine mythology. I was frankly hurt; I ceased even
to raise my hat when passing the Admiralty Offices on the top of a
bus.

That was a month or two ago; everything is all right again now. I once
more experience the old pleasing thrill of emotion when riding down
Whitehall. I have come to see how ungracious my recent attitude was.

A chance meeting with Bunbury, late sub-Loot R.N.V.R. and a sometime
shipmate of mine--Bunbury and I had squandered our valour recklessly
together aboard the Tyne drifters in the great days when Bellona wore
bell-bottoms--sufficed to bring me head-to-wind.

In the course of conversation I referred to the non-fulfilment of our
early dreams; I spoke rather bitterly.