But Peter Corbold was woefully adrift. The Admiral received him quite cordially.
"My flag-lieutenant has received his promotion," he announced. "I'm looking out for someone I can recommend for the billet, someone with a good knowledge of the Rioguayan language. You, I think, Mr. Corbold, will suit me."
"But I'm holding a temporary commission, sir," explained Peter.
"Rubbish!" declared the Admiral breezily. "There'll be no officer sacked on reduction. You can take my word for that. The Admiralty will want every trained officer they can lay their hands on with this expansion of the navy stunt coming on. Now, then, what do you say? Shall I send your name forward for appointment? Matter of form only, of course."
"Thanks awfully, sir," mumbled Peter. He was too taken aback to answer coherently. Usually cool and self-possessed, his sudden stroke of good luck had metaphorically taken the wind out of his sails.
"Very good, then," continued the Admiral. "We'll leave it at that for the present. Maynebrace, my flag-lieutenant, won't be turning over for a bit, so carry on on board the Rebound. When you get home, take a month's leave. The Stylex is ordered to this station on the 25th of next month: you'd better come out in her.... Oh, by the by, you brought off some refugees, I understand?"
"Yes, sir," admitted Peter.
"Glad you did," resumed the Commander-in-Chief. "The President wrote me requesting that I should give them up. I told him pretty plainly that it's not wise for the under-dog to kick, and that the refugees were political prisoners who had found a shelter under the British flag. The President can whistle for them. They're on their way to Jamaica by now. All right, Mr. Corbold, carry on."
Peter "carried on". With a light heart and feeling that he was treading on air (in his joy he very nearly did as he went over the side), he returned on board the Rebound, was told that he was a lucky dog, and on the strength of it had to stand champagne all round the ward-room.
At nine next morning, the three battleships, with the signal requesting permission to proceed, shortened in their cables. The answering flags fluttered from the yard-arm of the Royal Oak.