V LE SALON A CHAUFFER 307 



the fulfilment of those toasts depended our getting 

 back to port the next day. 



When we had eaten, the skipper told us there 

 were a couple of empty berths where we could 

 turn In, if and when we wished. 'Let me be 

 called at eleven,' he said, and, still like a huge 

 marionette, he disappeared down a trap-door in 

 the floor. 



The rest of the night, till eleven, we spent in 

 getting chilled through on deck, or warming our- 

 selves in a dark hole, the floor of which was a 

 grating over the stoke-hole, and one wall the 

 smoke-stack itself. I could not find out its name, 

 but on calling it le salon a chaufer every one under- 

 stood. Mittens and wet clothes hung there to 

 dry, and there the watch — two men, relieved every 

 two hours — spent most of their time. The air 

 within was hot and foul; without, on deck. It was 

 fresh and deadly cold. We had our choice. The 

 best thing to do w^as to sit on the iron doorstep 

 with one's head craned out into the cool air and as 

 much of one's body as possible poked backwards 

 into the saJon a chauffer. Riding to nets at night 

 in a small boat and light breeze, it looks as if the 

 whole sea Is flowing past in haste to plunge over 

 the edge of the world. There is an intimacy then 



