"No," I said.
He closed the glass with a snap and faced me squarely. "Got any one dependent on you?"
I shook my head, wondering what on earth he was driving at.
"Well then, I won't beat about the bush any more. There's a certain operation in contemplation over the other side; a pretty desperate business as far as I can make out, and the odds against coming out of it alive are considerable. A Captain is wanted to command a certain unit of the force; are you on for it?"
"I'm on for it all right," I replied, "but I'm not a Captain."
"That's all right," said the Skipper. He looked at me a bit queerly. "I was dining with the Admiral last night and he hinted the nature of the business and asked me if I thought you'd do. I told him you would, but the thing is uncommonly like signing a very old friend's death warrant. However, if you pull through you'll not exactly lose by it."
I suddenly felt a most extraordinary elation, like a schoolboy promised an unexpected holiday.
"Can you give me any details, sir?" I asked. "Something to go on and make arrangements?"
The Owner shook his head, and sitting down at his desk pulled a signal pad towards him. "No," he said, "but I'll make a signal to the Admiral that you accept and he'll probably send for you in the course of the day." He rang the bell as he spoke and handed the signal to a messenger.
"Give that to the Yeoman of the Watch and tell him to make it to 'Flag.'" Then he nodded to me. "That's all then, Commander. We'll leave it at that for the present."