"I vote we get some grub before we go on board," suggested Farrar. "By Jove, look at those oranges! And the price! After paying fivepence each for them in England a dozen for a copper coin corresponding to our penny does seem a bit cheap."
"Not being able to export them, I suppose they have to practically give them away," remarked the A.P. "On the other hand, look at the price of coal here. I've been working it out: it's something like £13 a ton."
"There's one thing," rejoined the sub, speaking somewhat at random, "it's too jolly hot here for coal to be in great demand. Here, before we get anything to eat let's have a look at the railway station. I always had a weakness for watching trains."
A troop train was drawn up alongside the low platform. Hundreds of reservists from Campania and Calabria were being hurried northward to the Venetian plains—slim olive-feature men, short of stature, yet looking full of enthusiasm. Catching sight of two British naval officer the soldiers opened a wordy fire to the accompaniment of fantastic gestures.
"Perhaps it is as well that we don't understand Italian," laughed the A.P., as the train, the carriages of which being of the most modern trans-continental type, moved out of the station, while almost immediately behind another train that had been waiting at a siding drew up.
There was no mistaking the nationality of the occupants of the dingy, grimy carriages. At every window appeared cheerful, sun-tanned faces.
From one of the wagons-à-lit descended three or four officers, looking begrimed, unshorn, and dog-tired, but nevertheless full of buoyant spirits.
"Hullo!" facetiously exclaimed one, addressing Farrar and his companion. "This looks better. Don't say we have arrived at Calais at last?"
"A few miles farther," replied the sub.
"And an hour's stop at every hundred yards—almost," rejoined the military man. "Arezzo, eh? Five hundred miles from Taranto, an' we've only taken three days an' three nights—bless 'em! Yes, we're from the Salonika front. First leave for eighteen blank months. Every ten miles the train stops. The engine's running on wood fuel, and so we have to set all hands to work and cut down timber."