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think we’ll get away by Tuesday noon. I told the Admiral I’d like to take a little cruise in Bass Strait as a shakedown, and come back maybe on Friday and report operational readiness. I’d say if you’re on board any time Monday forenoon that would be okay.”
    “Is there anything that I can do for you in the meantime? I’d come aboard on Saturday if I could help at all.”
    “I appreciate that, Commander, but there’s not a thing. Half the crew are off on leave right now, and I’m letting the other half go off on week-end pass tomorrow noon. There’ll be nobody here Saturday and Sunday barring one officer and six men on watch. No, Monday forenoon will be time enough for you.”
    He glanced at Peter. “Anybody tell you what they want us to do?”
    The Australian was surprised. “Haven’t they told you, sir?”
    The American laughed. “Not a thing. I’d say the last person to hear the sailing orders is the captain.”
    “The Second Naval Member sent for me about this posting,” Peter said. “He told me that you were making a cruise to Cairns, Port Moresby, and Darwin, and that it was going to take eleven days.”
    “Your Captain Nixon in the Operations Division, he asked me how long that would take,” the captain remarked. “I haven’t had it as an order yet.”
    “The Admiral said, this morning, that after that was over there’d be a much longer cruise, that would take about two months.”
    Commander Towers paused, motionless, his cupsuspended in mid air. “That’s news to me,” he remarked. “Did he say where we were going?”
    Peter shook his head. “He just said it would take about two months.”
    There was a short silence. Then the American roused himself and smiled. “I guess if you look in around midnight you’ll find me drawing radiuses on the chart,” he said quietly. “And tomorrow night, and the night after that.”
    It seemed better to the Australian to turn the conversation to a lighter tone. “Aren’t you going away for the week-end?” he asked.
    The captain shook his head. “I’ll stick around. Maybe go up to the city one day and take in a movie.”
    It seemed a dreary sort of programme for his week-end, a stranger far from home in a strange land. On the impulse Peter said, “Would you care to come down to Falmouth for a couple of nights, sir? We’ve got a spare bedroom. We’ve been spending most of our time at the sailing club this weather, swimming and sailing. My wife would like it if you could come.”
    “That’s mighty nice of you,” the captain said thoughtfully. He took another drink of coffee while he considered the proposal. Northern hemisphere people seldom mixed well, now, with people of the southern hemisphere. Too much lay between them, too great a difference of experience. The intolerable sympathy made a barrier. He knew that very well and, more, he knew that this Australian officer must know it in spite of his invitation. In the line of duty, however, he felt that he would like to know more about the liaison officer. If he had to communicate through him with the Australian Naval Command he would like to know what sort of man he was; that was a point in favour of this visit to his home. Thechange would certainly be some relief from the vile inactivity that had tormented him in the last months; however great the awkwardness, it might be better than a week-end in the echoing, empty aircraft carrier with only his own thoughts and memories for company.
    He smiled faintly as he put his cup down. It might be awkward if he went down there, but it could be even more awkward if he churlishly refused an invitation kindly meant from his new officer. “You sure it wouldn’t be too much for your wife?” he asked. “With a young baby?”
    Peter shook his head. “She’d like it,” he said. “Make a bit of a change for her. She doesn’t see many new faces, with things as they are. Of course, the baby makes a tie as well.”
    “I certainly would like to come