I have a new captain whom I engaged a few months ago, and he seems an arrant fool.

Very fortunately for us a fishing-boat saw our plight and gave the alarm at port.

The Admiral sent out two torpedo-boats and a tug, and after about three hours they managed to get us off." "And you are now in harbor ?" "Yes.

But the reason I've called is to ask you to do me a favor and write me a letter of thanks in Italian to the Admiral, and one to the Captain of the Port--polite letters that I can copy and send to them.
You know the kind of thing." "Certainly," I replied, the more interested in him on account of the curious suspicion that the port authorities seemed to entertain.

He was evidently a gentleman, and after I had been with him ten minutes I scouted the idea that he had endeavored to cast away the _Lola_.
I took down a couple of sheets of paper and scribbled the drafts of two letters couched in the most elegant phraseology, as is customary when addressing Italian officialdom.
"Fortunately, I left my wife in England, or she would have been terribly frightened," he remarked presently.