“Sir Mark will see you, sir,” said the butler.
“But Mr Barron is there?”
“No, sir, just gone up to join the ladies.”
Stratton winced, and the next moment was shown into the library.
“Ah, Malcolm Stratton,” cried the admiral bluntly. “Come in, my dear boy. How are you? Glad you’ve called. My friend Mr Barron was here. I wanted to introduce you two. Travelled much, but he’s chary of making new friends. You’ll like him, though, I’m sure. Wonderful fellow at the management of a yacht, and a magnificent swimmer. Why, I believe that man, sir, could swim for miles.”
“Indeed, Sir Mark.”
“Oh, yes; but sit down, Stratton; you are quite a stranger. Want to see me on business?”
“Yes; I—”
But before he could get any further the admiral, who seemed in high spirits, interrupted him.
“Pity you were not ten minutes sooner. Barron was telling me a most amusing story of slave life in Trinidad in the old days. Wonderful fund of anecdote. But you said business or an appointment, my dear boy. Bad man to come to unless it’s about the sea. What is it?”