At twenty minutes past ten Lieutenant Hirsch at the periscope said suddenly, "Boat ahead, under way." The executive jumped to the eyepieces, looked for a moment, and said, "Go call the captain." When Dwight came he said, "Outboard motorboat ahead, sir. About three miles. One person in it."

"Alive?"

"I guess so. The boat's under way."

Dwight took the periscope and stood looking for a long time. Then he stood back from it. "I'd say that's Yeoman Swain," he said quietly. "Whoever it is, he's fishing. I'd say he's got an outboard motorboat, and gas for it, and he's gone fishing."

The executive stared at him. "Well, what do you know?"

The captain stood in thought for a moment. "Go on and close the boat, and lie close up," he said. "I'll have a talk with him."

There was silence in the submarine, broken only by the orders from the executive. Presently he stopped engines and reported that the boat was close aboard. Dwight took the long lead of the microphone and went to the periscope. He said, "This is the captain speaking. Good morning, Ralphie. How are you doing?"

From the speaker they all heard the response. "I'm doing fine, Cap."

"Got any fish yet?"

In the boat the yeoman held up a salmon to the periscope. "I got one." And then he said, "Hold on a minute, Cap-you're getting across my line." In the submarine Dwight grinned, and said, "He's reeling in."

Lieutenant Commander Farrell asked, "Shall I give her a touch ahead?"

"No-hold everything. He's getting it clear now."

They waited while the fisherman secured his tackle. Then he said, "Say, Cap, I guess you think me a heel, jumping ship like that."

Dwight said, "That's all right, fella. I know how it was. I'm not going to take you on board again, though. I've got the rest of the ship's company to think about."

"Sure, Cap, I know that. I'm hot and getting hotter every minute, I suppose."

"How do you feel right now?"

"Okay so far. Would you ask Mr. Osborne for me how long I’ll go on that way?"

"He thinks you'll go for a day or so, and then you'll get sick."

From the boat the fisherman said, "Well, it's a mighty nice day to have for the last one. Wouldn't it be hell if it was raining?"

Dwight laughed. "That's the way to take it. Tell me, what are things like on shore?"

"Everybody's dead here, Cap-but I guess you know that. I went home. Dad and Mom were dead in bed-I'd say they took something. I went around to see the girl, and she was dead. It was a mistake, going there. No dogs or cats or birds, or anything alive-I guess they're all dead, too. Apart from that, everything is pretty much the way it always was. I'm sorry about jumping ship, Cap, but I'm glad to be home." He paused. "I got my own car and gas for it, and I got my own boat and my own outboard motor and my own fishing gear. And it's a fine, sunny day. I'd rather have it this way, in my own home town, than have it in September in Australia."

"Sure, fella. I know how you feel. Is there anything you want right now, that we can put out on the deck for you? We're on our way, and we shan't be coining back."

"You got any of those knockout pills on board, that you take when it gets bad? The cyanide?"

"I haven't got those, Ralphie. I'll put an automatic out on deck if you want it."

The fisherman shook his head. "I got my own gun. I'll take a look around the pharmacy when I get on shore-maybe there's something there. But I guess the gun would be the best."

"Is there anything else you want?"

"Thanks, Cap, but I got everything I want on shore. Without a dime to pay, either. Just tell the boys on board hullo for me."

"I'll do that, fella. We'll be going on now. Good fishing."

"Thanks, Cap. It's been pretty good under you, and I'm sorry I jumped ship."

"Okay. Now just watch the suck of the propellers as I go ahead."

He turned to the executive. "Take the con, Commander. Go ahead, and then on course, ten knots."

That evening Mary Holmes rang Moira at her home. It was a pouring wet evening in late autumn, the wind whistling around the house at Harkaway. "Darling," she said, "there's been a wireless signal from them. They're all well."

The girl gasped, for this was totally unexpected. "However did they get a signal through?"

"Commander Peterson just rang me up. It came through on the mystery station that they went to find out about. Lieutenant Sunderstorm was sending and he said they were all well. Isn't it splendid?"

The relief was so intense that for a moment the girl felt faint. "It's marvellous," she whispered. "Tell me, can they get a message back to them?"

"I don't think so. Sunderstrom said that he was closing down the station, and there wasn't anyone alive there."

"Oh…" The girl was silent. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to be patient."

"Not really. Just something I wanted to tell Dwight. But it'll have to wait."

"Darling! You don't mean…"

"No, I don't."

"Are you feeling all right, dear?"

"I'm feeling much better than I was five minutes ago." She paused. "How are you getting on, and how's Jennifer?"

"She's fine. We're all right, except it's raining all the time. Can't you come over sometime? It's an age since we met."

The girl said, "I could come down one evening after work, and go up again next day."

"Darling! That would be wonderful!"

She arrived at Falmouth station two nights later, and set herself to walk two miles up the hill in a misty drizzle. In the little flat Mary was waiting to welcome her with a bright fire in the lounge. She changed her shoes, helped Mary bathe the baby and put her down, and then they got the supper. Later they sat together on the floor before the fire.

The girl asked, "When do you think they'll be back?"

"Peter said that they'd be back about the fourteenth of June." She reached out for a calender upon the desk behind her. "Three more weeks-just over. I've been crossing off the days."

"Do you think they're up to time at this place-wherever they sent the wireless signal from?"

"I don't know. I ought to have asked Commander Peterson that. I wonder if it would be all right to ring him up tomorrow and ask?"

"I shouldn't think he'd mind."

"I think I'll do that. Peter says this is his last job for the navy, he'll be unemployed after they come back. I was wondering if we couldn't get away in June or July and have a holiday. It's so piggy here in the winter-nothing but rain and gales."

The girl lit a cigarette. "Where would you go to?"

"Somewhere where it's warm. Queensland or somewhere. It's such an awful bore not having the car. We'd have to take Jennifer by train, I suppose."

Moira blew a long cloud of smoke. "I shouldn't think Queensland would be very easy."

"Because of the sickness? It's so far away."

"They've got it at Maryborough," the girl said. That's only just north of Brisbane."

“But there are plenty of warm places to go to without going right up there, aren't there?"

"I should think there would be. But it's coming down south pretty steadily."

Mary twisted round and glanced at her. "Tell me, do you really think it's going to come here?"

"I think I do."

"You mean, we're all going to die of it? Like the men say?"

"I suppose so."

Mary twisted round and pulled a catalogue of garden flowers down from a muddle of papers on the settee. "I went to Wilson's today and bought a hundred daffodils," she said. "Bulbs. King Alfreds-these ones." She showed the picture. "I'm going to put them in that corner by the wall, where Peter took out the tree. It's sheltered there. But I suppose if we're all going to die that's silly."

"No sillier than me starting in to learn shorthand and typing," the girl said drily. "I think we're all going a bit mad, if you ask me. When do daffodils come up?"

"They should be flowering by the end of August," Mary said. "Of course, they won't be much this year, but they should be lovely next year and the year after. They sort of multiply, you know."

"Well, of course it's sensible to put them in. You'll see them anyway, and you'll sort of feel you've done something."

Mary looked at her gratefully. "Well, that's what I think. I mean, I couldn't bear to-to just stop doing things and do nothing. You might as well die now and get it over."

Moira nodded. "If what they say is right, we're none of us going to have time to do all that we planned to do. But we can keep on doing it as long as we can."

They sat on the hearthrug, Mary playing with the poker and the wood fire. Presently she said, "I forgot to ask you if you'd like a brandy or something. There's a bottle in the cupboard, and I think there's some soda."

The girl shook her head. "Not for me. I'm quite happy."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Have you reformed, or something?"

"Or something," said the girl. "I never tip it up at home. Only when I'm out at parties, or with men. With men particularly. Matter of fact, I'm even getting tired of that, now."

"It’s not men, is it, dear? Not now. It's Dwight Towers.”

"Yes," the girl said. "It's Dwight Towers."

"Don't you ever want to get married? I mean, even if we are all dying next September."

The girl stared into the fire. "I wanted to get married," she said quietly. "I wanted to have everything you've got. But I shan't have it now."

"Couldn't you marry Dwight?"

The girl shook her head. "I don't think so."

"I'm sure he likes you."

"Yes," she said. "He likes me all right."

"Has he ever kissed you?"

"Yes," she said again. "He kissed me once."

"I'm sure he'd marry you."

The girl shook her head again. "He wouldn't ever do that. You see, he's married already. He's got a wife and two children in America."