Nothing happened in the night, nothing indeed till we reached Port Said, where, right in front of us, were the three Patagonians coaling again!

The Skipper got more telegrams here, and it soon leaked out that the destroyers had all left Malta only two hours after us, all three steaming very fast in our direction. The harbour-master told us they had been in Port Said for two days, going out at dusk and not returning till morning; so we then felt sure that the break-down at Malta was all rot, and that they had simply been waiting for us off Port Said. Luckily the Skipper had refused to go near Port Said in the dark, but had waited about all night a long way to the north and east—the most unlikely place for us to be.

As soon as we made fast to a buoy, I was sent away in the second cutter and ordered to board the P. & O. Isis, which was lying off the Suez Canal offices (she had come in early that morning from Brindisi with the mails), and bring back a lieutenant who was to join us—a Mr. Staunton, who had been left behind in London with the Paymaster, who was killed at Lyons.

When I forced my way through the crowd of boats alongside, I slipped up the ladder and asked for him. The quarter-master, however, said he had gone in a man-of-war's boat several hours before, so I pulled back and reported. Then I was sent over to H.M.S. Hebe, one of our own gun-boats, doing guardship there, but they knew nothing of him—they had sent a boat for mails to the Isis, but she certainly had brought back no passengers. This was very strange, so I made my boat's crew lay back to their oars, and reported to the Commander as soon as possible.

He took me down to the Skipper, who looked very vexed when he heard the news. After that I and two other midshipmen had to go ashore and make enquiries at the consuls and all the hotels—a terribly hot day, too, it was, with an awful glare which fagged us all—but we could hear nothing of him. When we got back to the ship the three Patagonians had gone, and not only that, but Hopkins had disappeared, and, I can tell you, there was tremendous excitement on board.

Everyone, of course, felt sure that Mr. Staunton was on board one of the Patagonian destroyers and now miles down the canal, and many thought that probably Mr. Hopkins too had been somehow decoyed away. You see he was just the man they would want, for he was the Skipper's secretary and would know everything. Whilst we three were trying to get something to eat, the Commander's messenger sang out for me and Toddles (Toddles was the next senior midshipman), so up we had to go again.

"Get a few warm things together, and be ready to leave the ship in five minutes," he said. "You, Mr. Foote, are lent to 'No. 1', and you, Mr. Glover, to 'No. 3'." As we left the cabin to hurry down below he called out: "Don't forget flannel shirts and sea boots".

"All right, sir, thank you," we answered joyfully.

I borrowed one of Dumpling's bags, which I found lying about (I didn't ask him), and we were ready before the boat came alongside, Mellins giving us a basketful of grub as we shoved off. Toddles was put aboard "No. 1", and then they put me aboard "No. 3", where I reported to Mr. Parker, the lieutenant in command.

Luckily for me, Toddles in his hurry had forgotten his share of the grub.