"Fore-top, I believe," replied Peter. "Not sure, though. It depends, so the Commander informs me, upon the disposition of the little stunt I'm supposed to be in charge of. When are we going south, do you know?"
Cavendish shook his head.
"Waiting for the oil-tankers, I believe. And there's trouble with the Repulse's under-water fittings. We can't go without her. Dockyard divers might fix up the damage. Wonder if the Rioguayan navy will come out, or will it act like the Hun High Seas Fleet? Hello, what's that? General signal."
The two officers were pacing that side of the quarter-deck which was theirs by custom. The other side was by the same tradition the owner's.
From the signal yard and almost immediately above their heads a hoist of gaily-coloured bunting fluttered in the breeze.
It was the signal to "weigh and proceed".
Cavendish gave a low whistle. "What's up now?" he asked.
A messenger from the decoding officer came hurrying aft. The lieutenant stopped him, and repeated his question.
"They're out, sir," replied the man, saluting. "Enemy have appeared in force off Barbadoes and Barbuda."
"Good business, Peter," ejaculated Cavendish. "They're raiding. Will try to bust up Jamaica before they've done. We'll give it to 'em in the neck."