"I'm not home—not yet."
Just below them the officer of the deck was roaming the quarter-deck. A ship's messenger stepped up to him, saluted and said smartly: "Two bells, sir."
"Strike 'em," came the sharp order; and as the two bells were striking, from other ships, from windward and leeward, came also the quick, sharp-toned double stroke.
"Why," asked Carlin, "couldn't they strike those two bells without bothering that deck officer?"
"Regulations."
"They're the devil, those regulations, Wickett."
"Worse—sometimes. You can steer clear of the devil if you want to." He paused. "And yet it would soon be a devil of a service without 'em."
A sailor stepped up to the officer of the deck, and, saluting, said: "Anchor lights burning bright, sir."
A man in a chief petty officer's uniform stepped up to the officer of the deck, whereupon Wickett, sitting up, said: "That's our wireless operator."
"A message for Mr. Wickett, sir," came the operator's voice.