In a few words, but with evident appreciation of the adventure, Mills described to us how he swam to the beach clad simply in a money belt and a pair of trousers.

Shells were falling all round till a tiny French gunboat came out of Bayonne and shooed the _Numancia_ away out of territorial waters.
He was very amusing and I was fascinated by the mental picture of that tranquil man rolling in the surf and emerging breathless, in the costume you know, on the fair land of France, in the character of a smuggler of war material.

However, they had never arrested or expelled him, since he was there before my eyes.

But how and why did he get so far from the scene of his sea adventure was an interesting question.

And I put it to him with most naive indiscretion which did not shock him visibly.