“At least, that seems to be the general opinion amongst our people. If anything, they’re inclined to put it a shade sooner.”

“They’re probably right. Those thugs in Berlin mean business, and all the soft soap in the world isn’t going to make the slightest difference.” Joe raised his glass and gulped down the remainder of the contents. “However, we won’t discuss it now or it will spoil my appetite. How do you feel about going in and making a start? I told them to put us on a grilled sole, and if they haven’t forgotten it ought to be just about ready.”

Without waiting for a reply he hoisted himself up, and making their way across the hall into the big dining-room opposite, they headed towards an empty table in the window that looked out into the Square. Some half-dozen members had drifted in before them, and a low buzz of conversation was already in full swing.

In spite of the haunting depression at the back of his mind, Owen himself was soon talking away as vigorously as anyone. During his absence abroad he had largely dropped out of touch with what was going on in London, and the wealth of interesting gossip which his host was in a position to supply made the time slip past with an agreeable and surprising rapidity. Inquiries and news about old friends and acquaintances seemed to follow each other continuously. The same process continued cheerfully all through the meal, and it was not until they had arrived at the stage of coffee and cigars that the grim subject which he had been only too willing to postpone forced itself inevitably into the foreground.

“Now,” demanded Joe, with a sudden turn of seriousness, “what’s this trouble of yours that you were hinting at in the bar? Not been making love to the Admiral’s wife or anything stupid of that sort?”

“I haven’t even tried.” Owen paused. “No, it’s something much less romantic, but just as unpleasant in its consequences.” He dropped a lump of sugar into his cup and stirred it round slowly. “To put it into plain, unvarnished English, I’ve suddenly gone colour-blind.”

“Colour-blind!” Joe sat up sharply. “My dear chap, I—I’m devilish sorry. That’s a pretty rotten business for you, isn’t it?”

“Not too good. Knocks out the chance of my ever becoming another Lord Nelson.”

“But when did it happen? Quite recently?”

“Coming home from China. I went up on deck one night just as we were passing a tramp steamer, and the first thing I noticed was that there was something wrong with her port light. Instead of being red it was a kind of dirty yellow. I spoke to the look-out about it, and he thought I was joking—couldn’t understand what I meant. Then—well, then I began to get the wind up. So I toddled down below again and routed out the Doc. He put me through one or two tests, and by the time he’d finished I knew what I was in for. Of course he did his best to cheer me up and tell me that I’d probably recover, but I could see by his face that it was only a lot of well-meaning bunk. He simply hadn’t the heart to dish me out the truth.”

“Are you absolutely sure? Isn’t there the slightest chance—?”

“Not an earthly. As soon as we got to Plymouth I went before a Medical Board. The Head M.O. was a very decent bloke, and he said that before giving a final opinion he’d like me to run up to Town and consult a specialist called Mitchell-Carr in Harley Street. I felt at the time that he was merely letting me down as gently as possible.”

“Have you seen this chap yet?”

“Had an appointment this morning and came straight on here afterwards. He tried me out with the whole bag of tricks. I needn’t bore you with details, but I gather that unless I run into someone who can perform miracles I shall never be able to spot a red light again except when I’m practically right up against it. Won’t make any difference to my sight otherwise, but so far as going to sea’s concerned—well, it’s just a case of sweet Fanny Adams.” He shrugged. “They don’t entrust expensive battleships to wash-outs like me.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“It’s a sickening piece of bad luck, and I’m more sorry than I can say.” Joe was staring across at his companion with an obviously genuine sympathy.