On Monday morning he got out of bed at half-past five and
went down to the sea to bathe. He wore nothing except his pyjamas and
an old pair of canvas shoes, and so was obliged to go back to his
bedroom again after his swim. As he passed Major Kent's door he
hammered vigorously on it with his fist. When he thought he had made
noise enough to awaken his friend, he turned the handle of the door,
put his head into the room, and shouted,--
"Splendid day. Absolutely the best possible; first-rate sailing
breeze, and no prospect of rain."
Major Kent growled in reply.
"What's that you say?"
"Confound you, J. J. Get out of that. What's the good of waking me at
this hour?"
Meldon opened the door a little wider and stepped into the room.
"I thought you'd like to know about the weather," he said. "It's
extremely important for us to secure a really first-rate day. If it
turned out that we could do nothing but lollop about half a mile from
the shore in a dead calm, poor Simpkins wouldn't have a chance; or if--"
"Go away, J. J."
"And if it were to come on a downpour of rain, his spirits would be so
damped that he'd never get himself worked up to the pitch of--"
"I suppose I may as well get up," said the Major despairingly.
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