"I had a message from Ashington, asking to see me," he explained, "and I have just returned from a meeting with him. He tells me that the date of the fleet's sailing will probably be altered to Friday, but he will let me know definitely to-morrow or Tuesday."
"Or Tuesday!" I exclaimed. "Then I may have to stay here for another night!"
"I'm sorry," said he, "but I'm afraid it can't be helped."
"But can we ever be sure that the fleet will keep to a programme? I have just been thinking it over, and the question struck me—why are they making this arrangement so far ahead?"
"That struck me too," said Tiel, "and also Ashington. But he has found out now. There is some big scheme on. Some think it is Heligoland, and some think the Baltic. Anyhow, there is a definite programme, and they will certainly keep to it. The only uncertain thing is the actual day of sailing."
"It is a plan which will be nicely upset if we get our torpedoes into three or four of their super-dreadnoughts!" I exclaimed.
He nodded grimly.
"And for that, we want to have the timing exact" he said. "Be patient, my friend; we shall know by Tuesday morning at the latest."
I tried to be as philosophical as I could, but it was a dreary evening, with the rain still beating on my window and another day's confinement to look forward to.