Around and among all these swimmers paddled the Greeks in their quaint, picturesque boats, watching them and smiling with amusement.
The Hun and Rawlins, slightly out of breath, after having disappeared for a few brief moments below the surface of the water in their efforts to decide which had ducked the other, caught hold of the stern of a boat which happened to be near, and drawing themselves half out of the water, grinned happily at a bevy of plump young damsels sitting there. The girls, laughing merrily, gave them each an orange; whereupon they slipped back into the water and proceeded to eat them. But the sight of these two lying placidly on their backs and devouring their oranges was too much for the others. Uncle Podger with his trudgeon stroke reached the unsuspecting Rawlins first, seized his orange, ducked him, and dived, only to come up among the enemy—the Pimple, the Sub, and the outraged Rawlins. The War Baby threw himself into the mêlée; the Hun, swallowing the rest of his orange, joined in too; and the life of Uncle Podger was only saved by a shower of oranges, and peals of girlish laughter from the boat.
Securing their prizes they shouted, "Thanks, awfully! Merci beaucoup!" hoping that they might understand French; and the War Baby, who knew a few words of Spanish, called out, "Gratia! Señoritas!" hoping they could understand that. But language did not matter; they knew what was meant to be expressed, and shrieked with laughter.
The Fleet-Paymaster, puffing along by the side of Dr. Gordon, who looked exactly like a walrus in the water, grunted out: "We're too old, I suppose, for 'em to chuck oranges at us? Let's try!"
And they did; and each got his orange, and his shriek of laughter when he tried to eat it without spoiling the taste with sea water.
All this time the China Doll, who could only swim a few strokes, did not venture far from the foot of the ladder, very miserable that everybody seemed to have forgotten him, and knowing that if he did venture out among the others he would certainly be ducked—which he hated—and very probably drowned.
Up on deck, Captain Macfarlane, grimly looking on, met the Gunnery-Lieutenant coming up from performing his trick of tossing a hoop off the top of the ladder, and then diving through it as it lay on the surface of the water—he had done this about ten times already, as if he were carrying out some drill or religious exercise.
"Mr. Gunnery-Lieutenant," Captain Macfarlane said, tugging thoughtfully at his beard; "the Great War is still on, is it not?" and the startled Gunnery-Lieutenant, the hoop in one hand, the other raised to his dripping hair in wild salute, replied: "Oh! Yes, sir! As far as I know, sir!" and, later on, gave it as his opinion that "the Skipper must be going off his head".
Presently the bugle sounded the "retire", and everyone splashed back to the ship, the members of the Honourable Mess going down to the half-deck, chattering like magpies round the Pink Rat's cot whilst they rubbed themselves down and dressed.
"I never got an orange. I do think you chaps might have brought me one," the China Doll squeaked, a little upset because no one had taken any notice of him; so they chased him round the half-deck with their wet towels, till he shrieked for mercy and was happy again.