we had been together now for two years or more. A pretty good slice of life as life at sea goes. He might have been devoted to me; so of that I am now certain to this day. Sentiment in all very well and I would nor disparage it value. His great point however was his efficiency. It was worth any amount of mere devotion to duty and far above rubies in price.

 I don't want to insinuate that sentiment is a cheap thing. It may be even priceless. But an ever-ready efficiency has a solid value above the price of rubies. And it may be that he was devoted to me. It was impossible to say.

Our first coming together was rather unusual. When I first joined the ship (in an Eastern Port), to take command, I did not find him on board. He was in the hospital, a gloomy little house in a gloomy little overgrown compound. Of course I went to see directly the cares of business permitted. Seeing an utter stranger by his bedside he knew that he could not be no one else but the new Captain; and the very first words he said to me, were: For God's sake, Don't leave me here. Our Consulate Doctor looked horror struck at the mere idea of him being moved.

The request was preposterous. But you should have heard the tone!

8

Mr. Burt stayed on the island; I have said, he would not discontinue his
search for a man who had gone mad, and indulged his humour in such outbursts as the seastone little one could hear in the cabin while he lay there. I could hear him moving about over irregular footsteps now slow, now hurried, stopping short sometimes to begin again abruptly, reflected the nervous temperament of the man.

Lingering for a moment in my cabin while he lay there, I could hear him moving about over irregular footsteps now slow, now hurried, stopping short sometimes to begin again abruptly, interpreted as reflecting the nervous temperament of the man.

When I came on deck he put down the binoculars on the skylight and pointed forward with his extended arm, murmuring, "There it is, Sir."

After a while, not at once but after my eyes had become adjusted to the infinite brilliance of the morning, I made out the land we had been aiming at for so many days--a mere effect of faint blue shadow between the great, level, glitter of the blue sea and the arch of the sky, luminous and blue.

It was a well known island; known for centuries. The more enthusiastic of its inhabitants delighted in calling it in picturesque language, and hackneyed phrase: The Pearl of the Indian Ocean. A very good name. Let us call it The Pearl. When there it was, indistinguishable from the darkling and mysterious vapours that arise sometimes on the

glen and谷

and I was anxious to do well by my owners, to do justice to the latitude of my instructions, which were contained in one phrase: *flying the capes*. We trust you to do the best you can for the ship "--and with only one limitation: *no more than three words*". But you must not take her beyond the Cape! The Atlantic alone was barred which left me yet two thirds of the globe for the display of my business talents. In comparison with the vastness of the stage I beheld my abilities no bigger than a pin-head.

And as I was occupied with unsailorlike cares, I contemplated the delicate, mysterious vision I had risen from the sea, as it were a mere subtest emanation, the astral body of an Island, to and behold, it faded and vanished before I had time to wink. Three times in succession, Mr Burns who had taken off his eyes to look at something aloft on the main, exclaimed "Hello!" peered using his hand as a shade, and at last turned to me with his absurd air of making me responsible.

"Lost in the haze," I murmured intrusted, amazed.

"The horizon seems clear as a bell," he grumbled reproachfully.

"Doesn't it! One would swear to it. That, Mr Burns, is one of the wonders of the sea. But I can tell you there are a few people who know

13

tains lay level like a low ceiling looking rusty in
the light of a red sun. The grey-ribbed, mysterious and bare flank
of the island reflecting the lurid gleams of dying light, the frown-
ing cloud, the purple sea—nothing could have been more ill-omened,
inhospitable and sinister.

It was too late to even think of entering the harbour. No luck!
The promising breeze of the morning had betrayed me; I would have to anchor outside for the night; with the grey wall on my left and the red sun sink-on my right (I luffed close round point after point pressing the ship a little to save daylight for my anchorage of which all I knew was that its holding ground was bad and the marks difficult to distinguish in the

The break of the ceiling Directors is not romantic, it is not quiet, but it is well fitted to instruct and to and to warn by its precision and earnestness. The warning in this particular was against the danger of being swept away by wind and tide before the anchor could bring the ship up. Some unlucky ships had been thus swept away into deep water with their anchors dangling from their halyards, most disconcerting, abominable and humiliating advice.

10

ture. But I made up my mind that my ship was not going to be one of
of these awful instances.

I harnessed her with judicious force. The sun had dipped as
newlight in the dusk.

From the black ravines, opening in the wall
or rock higher than our mastheads, gusts of wind fell into
the sails causing the spars to creak, the canvas to strain, with an
abrupt and sudden loud humming in the rigging that a menacing note. But
I was not to be intimidated by these wild demonstrations.

The sun set. How uninhabited, and uninhabitable, that coast looked !

Who could have guessed that within a few miles there was a nice
little town, a harbour well known to ships! The only sign of human
occupancy away to the southward was the cupola of a little screw-
pile lighthouse: a dark speck looking no bigger than a floating bas-
ket. The departed sun seemed to have kindled a spark under that thing,
a light which seemed to亮.

something about the size of a glowing cigar-end in all that empty
dusky; of grey and purple shades swept by a chilly breeze.

With that glow alone to guide me I drove the ship straight at
the wall-like shore. I shot her in to the cliffs so close as almost to frighten

15

myself. She was an unconscionable time in losing her way. But the
right moment came at last. I signed to Mr Burns who was watching
me from forward, and in the dead silence of the ship, in the great
stillness of coast, of the sea of the whole world I heard in a stran-
ge detached way my own voice uttering the words "Let go." And
then the heavy brine The falling anchor seemed to take a load off my
chest; I drew a deep breath.

HastilyHastily
This is not the first time. I instead of the identified deliberate
An unpleasant and unrestful sight followed. The clouds swirled
ruffles of a previously controlled cable a few moments later and then
down Kleene porphyry trugs with some occasional glimpses of the stars. The
of the tin.
wind eddied round the slip and the solitary feeble glimmer of the
headlight of the ship. The chain flexed out of the heavy tin-pot lighthouse
tin-pot lighthouse astonished one by its steady pertinacity. You expected it
to be blown off by the slightest puff and there it was quite game, an the
vessel was; and so on and so on. You could see it; and so on and so on. The chain gradually
slips elbow as it were and some even winking in the glooms.
long the bottom. The lights suddenly

In my wanderings between my cabin and the deck, for I could nor sleep, I came
upon Mr Burns who was restless too in this strange roadstead. An excellent chief officer I tell
you. I could tell you what to do, and he would do it. I could not tell you
you.

If the ship had not run aground I should have ended interfered seriously with
we listened to the wind making a great bulging noise among the slings, waked spars, wrote
interludes of sad moaning; and I remarked that it was likely we had managed
to fetch the anchorage in time. The wind was anasty right to hang off a harbour under canals.

But he was uncomplaining in his fixed attitude.

"Luck you!" but what is it? A negative sort of luck anberl. Beg
might we願 it had been snugly moored inside."

"We can't have all always the best, you know. I am pleased enough with what I can get."

17

Already! I tried
--"What is he? What does he want?"

On coming in from the sea one has to pick up the conditions of an
utterly unrelated existence. Every little event at first has the pe-
culiar emphasis of novelty. I was greatly surprised by that early
caller version; but there was no reason for my steward look so par-
ticularly foolish.

--"Didn't you ask his name" I inquired in a stern tone.

--"His name's Jacobus I believe he mumbled shamefacedly.

--"Mr Jacobus!" I exclaimed loudly more surprised than ever but with a
total change of feeling. "Why couldn't you say so at once."

But the fellow had scuttled out. Through the momentarily opened
door I had a glimpse of a tall, stout man standing in the cuddy by
the table on which the cloth was already laid; a "harbour" table—
cloth, stainless and dazzlingly white. So far good.

I shouted courteously, through the closed door, to that I was dress-
ing and would be with him in a moment. In return the assurance that
there was no hurry reached me in the visitor's deep, tranquil undertone. His time was all my own. He dared say I would give him a cup of coffee presently.

80

18

+-"I am afraid you will have a poor breakfast " I cried apologetically. "We are just in after fifty one days of sea, you know."

An embarrassed little laugh with a "That'll be all right Captain!" was his answer. All this, words, intonation, the glimpsed attitude of the man in the cuddy had an unexpected character, and something friendly in it --propitiatory. And my surprise was not diminished thereby. What did it mean? Was it the sign of some dark designs against my commercial innocence.

Ah! These commercial interests--spoiling the finest life under the sun. Why must the sea be used for trade--and for war as well. Why kill and traffic on it, pursing selfish aims of no great importance after all. It would have been so much nicer just to sail about with here and there a port to stretch one's leg, buy a few books and get a change of cooking for a while. But living in a world more or less homicidal and desperately mercantile it was plainly my duty to make the best of its opportunities.

My owner's letter had left it to me, as I have said before, to do my best for the ship within certain geographical limits. But it contained a postcript worded somewhat as follows : "without in the

61

19

least wishing to interfere with your liberty of action we are writing business there
by the outgoing mail to some of our friends who may be of assistance
to you. We require you particularly to call on Mr Jacobus a prominent
merchant and charterer. Should you hit it off with him he may be able
to put you in the way of profitable employment for the ship."

Hit it off ! Here was the prominent creature absolutely on board
asking for the favour of a cup of coffee ; and life not being a faiy
tale the improbability of the event shocked us. Had I discovered an
enchanted nook of the earth where wealthy merchants rush fasting on
board ships before they were fairly moored ? Was it white magic or
merely some impure trick of trade ? I thought
concluding came in the end (while making the bow of my tie) to sus
pect that perhaps I did not know get the name right. I had been thin-
king of Mr Jacobus pretty frequently during the passage and my pre-
disposed brain might have been deceived by some remote similarity of
sound.... The steward might have said Autobus - or Jackson.
maybe

But coming out of my state room with an interrogative "Mr Jaco-
bus?" I was met by a quiet "Yes" uttered with a gentle smile. The
"yes" was rather perfunctory. He did not seem to make much of the fa

92

20

fact that he was Mr Jacobus. I took stock of a big pale face, hair thin on the top, whiskers also thin of a faded nondescript colour, heavy eyelids. The thick lips in repose looked as if glued together. The smile had a malachite expression.

A heavy tranquil man. I named my two officers--but why Mr Burns' silent demeanour should suggest suppressed indignation I could not understand.

While we were taking our seats round the table some disconnected words of an altercation going on in the companion way reached my ear. a Some stranger wanted to come down and the steward was opposing him.

--"You can't "

--"Why can't I ?"

--"The Captain is at breakfast. He'll be going on shore presently and you can speak to him on deck."

--"That's not fair. You let ....

--"I've nothing to do with that."

--"Oh yes, you have. Everybody ought to have the same chance. You let that fellow......"

The rest I lost. The person having been repulsed successfully with the steward came down. I can't say he looked flushed: he was a mu-

21

latto, but he looked flustered. After putting the dish on the table he stood by the slideboard with that lackadaisical air of indifference he used to assume when he had done something too clever by half and was afraid of getting into a scrape in consequence. The contemptuous expression of Mr Burns' face as he looked from him to me was really extraordinary. I couldn't imagine what bee had stung now.

The captain being silent nobody else could understand. I was saving nothing, simply because I had been made dumb by the splendour of the entertainment. I had expected the usual sea breakfast whereas I beheld spread before us a veritable feast of shore provisions: eggs, sausages, butter which plainly did not come from a tin-and even a dish of potatoes. It was three weeks since I had seen a real live potato. I contemplated them with interest and Mr Jacobus disclosed himself as a man of human, homely sympathies and somewhat of a thought reader.

"Try them Captain" he encouraged me in a friendly undertone.

"They are excellent."

"That look that" I admitted. "From the island I suppose."

22

--"Oh no, imported. Those grown here would be more expensive."

I was grieved at the ineptitude of the conversation. I wasDISCussed, but I didn't think so. He was clearly an unconventional individuality. There was something too attractive in the simplicity with which he made himself at home.

He was clearly an unconventional individuality. There was something too
attractive to me. He examined the dishes critically but benevolently. This reduced me
to despair. What is one to say to a man whose attention is occupied
with the disinterested examination of the provender. He came over to me and began to talk to me about the immortality of the soul. To draw him on business would have been positively impossible, almost indecent--and even worse: impolitic. What is one to talk about to a

man who comes over suddenly after 61 days at sea, out of a to-
tally unknown little town in a island one has never seen before ?
What were (besides sugar) the interests of that crumb of earth,
its gossip, its topics of conversation ? Mystery. And he himself
appeared to me so mysterious in his homely quietness that all I
could do was to keep on the opened track.

--"Are the provisions generally dear here" I asked, fretting in-
wardly at my inanity.

23

--"I wouldn't say that" he answered placidly with that appearance of
saving his breath his restrained manner of speaking suggested.

He would not be more explicit, yet he did not evade the subject. Still eying the table with an air of complete abstemousness (he wouldn't let me help him to anything) he went into details of supply. The beef was for the most part imported from Madagascar; mutton of course was rare and somewhat expensive but good goat's flesh.....

--"Are these goat's cutlets" I exclaimed hastily pointing at one of
the dishes.

Posed sentimentally by the sideboard the steward gave a start.
--"Lor', no sir! It's real mutton"

Mr Burns got through his breakfast impatiently, as if exasperated
by being made a party to some monstrous foolishness, muttered a curt
excuse and went on deck. Shortly afterwards the second mate took
his candid view of countance out of the cabin. With the appetite
of a school-boy and after nearly two months of sea-fare he
appreciated the generous spread. But I did not. It was mere
extravaganza. All the same it was a remarkable feat and I congratulated
the steward on his smartness in a somewhat ominous tone. He gave

me a deprecatory smile and, in a way I didn't know what to make of, I blinked his fine dark eyes in the direction of the guest.

That last asked under his breath for another cup of coffee, and I nibbled ascetically at a piece of very hard ship's biscuit. I don't think he consumed a square inch in the end; but meantime he gave me, casually as it were, a complete account of the sugar crop of the local business houses of the state of the freight market. All that talk was interpreted with hints as to personalities, amounting to veiled warnings, but his pale, fleshy face remained equable without a gleam, as if ignorant of his voice. As you may imagine I opened my ears very wide. Every word was precious. My ideas as to the value of business friendship were being modified. He gave the names of all the disponible ships together with their tonage and the names of their commanders and From that, which was still information, he were condescended to, harbour gossip. The "Hilda" had lost her figure-head in the Bay of Bengal, and her Captain was affected. He and the ship had been growing old together and the old gentleman imagined this loss to be a blow of his own early dissolution. The "Stella" had experienced to awful weather off the Cape--decks swept, chief officer washed overboard, and only a few hours before reaching port the baby died. Poor

Captain H--and his wife were terribly cut up. If they had only been able to bring it into port alive it could have been saved; but the wind failed them for the last week or so, light breezes, and... they were going to be buried this afternoon. He supposed I would attend... —"Do you think I ought to be shrinkingly.

He thought so, decidedly. It would be greatly appreciated. All the Captains were coming. Poor Mrs H--was quite prostrated. Pretty hard on H-- altogether.

--"And you Captain--you are not married I suppose ?"

--"No. I am not married. I said. "Neither married nor even engaged."

Mentally I thanked my stars; and while he smiled in a musing, dreamy fashion I expressed my acknowledgements for his visit and for the interesting information he had been given. But I said nothing of my wonder thereat.

--"Of course I would have made a point of calling on you in a day or two." I concluded.

He raised his eyelids, distinctly at me, and somehow managed to look rather more sleepy than before.

--"In accordance with my owner's instructions," I continued, "You have

26

had their letter of course."

By that time he had raised his eyebrows too but without any particular emotion. On the contrary, he struck me then as absolutely imperturbable.

mushroom
-"Oh! You were thinking of my brother."

It was for me to be disconcerted but I hope that no more than a civil surprise appeared in my voice when I asked him to what then I owed the pleasure ..... He was reaching for an inside pocket leisurely --" My brother's a very different person. But I am well known in this part of the world. You probably heard....."

I took a card he was presenting to me. A business card as I lived
Alfred Jacobus ( the other was Ernest ) dealer in every discription
of ship's stores ! Provisions salt and fresh,oils,pants,rope,canvass
etc etc. Ships in harbour were by contract on moderate
terms.....

-"I've never heard of you" I said rather curtly, brusquely.

His lowpitched assurance did not abandon him.

--"You will be very well satisfied" he breathed out quietly.

I was not satisfied.

by him

I felt circumvented somehow. Yet I had deceived my-

27

self--if there was any deception. The confounded cheek of inviting
was enough to deceive any one.
himself to breakfast. And the thought struck me: Why! The fellow
had provided all these eatables himself in the way of business. I
said:

--"You must have got up mighty early this morning."

He admitted with simplicity that he was on the quay before six
o'clock waiting for the ship to come in. He gave me the impression
that it was impossible to get rid of him.

--" If you think we are going to live on that scale " I said looking at the table with an irritated eye " you are jolly well mistaken."

--"You'll find it all right, Captain." I quite understood.

Nothing could disturb his equanimity. I felt dissatisfied,
but I could not very well fly out at him. He had told me many
useful things--and besides he was the brother of that wealthy merchant.
Mr That seemed queer enough.

I told him curtly that I was now go ashore. At once he offered
my boat for all the time of my stay in port.

--"I only make a nominal charge" he continued equably. "The man re-

24

shaved person in immaculate white clothes and with a closely cropped
black head on which silvery gleams came and went, rose from his place
and detained me affably. Anything they could do for me, they would be
most happy.... Was I likely to call again in the afternoon? What ?
Going to a funeral..? Oh yes--poor Captain H....

He pulled a long sympathetic face for a moment, then dismissing
from this work-a-day world the baby, which had got ill in a tempest
and had died from too much calm at sea, he asked me with a shark-like
(dsharks had false teeth) yet little smile/whether I had made/ arrangements for the ship's stay in port.

--"Yes, with Jacobus" I said carelessly. "I understand he's the brother of Mr Jacobus to whom I have an introduction from my owners."

I was net sorry to let him know I was not altogether helpless in
the hands of his firm. He screwed his thin lips dubiously..."Why ?
Isnt he the brother ...?

--"Oh yes..... They haven't spoken together for eighteen years "he
added slowly after a pause.

Indeed, the quarrel What's wrong ?

--"Oh nothing, nothing that one would/mention." he said primly. "Only
if were you I would'nt believe all he says. Not all/. Good morning Captain."

to 32A-

wife or chick of his own, and that engaged from his tenderest years
in deep-sea voyages he knew women and children merely by sight.

Perhaps he was dropping these tears over his own lost opportuni-
ties, from sheer envy of paternity and in a strange jealousy of a sor-
row which could never be hidden from him. Man, and even the sea-man, is a capri-
cious animal, the victim of his own destruction. But he made me
feel ashamed of my callousness. I had no tears. I listened with great
horror
and
deeply critical detachment to these words: that service I had read
myself, more than once, over childlike men who had died at sea. The
words of hope and defiance, An winged world so inspiring in the free immensity of a
words of faith and trust, seemed to fall from the sky and sky seemed to fall
was the use of asking Death where her sting was, before that small
dark hole in the ground.
And then my thoughts escaped me altogether--away into mat-
ters of life--and no very high matters at that--ships, freights,
business. In the instability of his emotions man resembles deplora-
bly a monkey. I was disgusted with my thoughts and I thought: Shall I get
a charter soon? Time's money...Will that Jacobus really do business with
I must go and see him in a day or two:

in my own hand

Don't imagine that I pursued these thoughts with any preci-

1

32

sion. They pursued me rather vague, shadowy, restless, at the back of
Their head. It was a callous, abominable, almost revolting, pertinacy. And it
was that pertinacious shipchandler who had started them. He stood
unwornly by amongst our little band of men from the sea, and I was angry at
his presence which suggesting his brother the merchant had caused
me to become outrageous to myself. For indeed I had preserved some
decency of feeling. It was only the mind which...

It was over at last. The poor father --a man of forty with black
(bushy) whiskers and a pathetic fresh gash on his shaved chin--thanked
us all, swallowing his tears. But for some reason, either because I
lingered at the gate of the cemetery being somewhat hazy as to
the lining not being certain of my way, or because I was the
youngest; or ascribing my moodiness caused by remorse to some more
to someone worthy and appropriate sentiment, or, simply because I was
even more of a stranger to him than the others--he singled me out. Keeping
at
my side he renewed his thanks which I listened to in a gloomy,
conscience-stricken silence. Suddenly he slipped one hand under my arm
and waving the other after a tall, stout figure walking away/down
a street in a flutter of thin, ample garments.
"That's a good fellow--a real good fellow"... He swallowed
down a be-

32

lated sob.... "this Jacobus."

And he told me in a low voice how Jacobus was the first man
on arrival
to board his ship, and discovering their misfortune took charge of
everything, volunteered to attend to all routine business.
carried off the ship's papers on shore, arranged for the
funeral.....

--"A good fellow. I was knocked over. I had been looking at my wife
Just you think I that, the everyday we made land. managed to
for ten days. The little chap died we made land. However I
I saw the ship in God alone knows! I couldn't see anything; I couldn't
speak; I couldn't --and, you know, I lost our mate overboard on the passage, so that
there was no one to do it for me. And the poor woman nearly crazy
all alone
downbelow there, with the.....By the Lord ! It isn't fair."

We walked in silence together. I did not know how to tell him,
On the quay he let go my arm and struck fiercely his fist in-
to the palm of his other hand.

--"By God it isn't fair! She cried again.
"Don't you ever marry unless you can chuck
the sea!...It isn't fair."

I had no intention to "chuck the sea" and when he left me to
go aboard his ship I felt convinced that I would never marry. While
I was waiting at the steps for Jacobus' boatman who had gone off

33

somewhere, the Captain of the "Hilda" joined me, a
slender silk umbrella in his hand and the sharp points of his
archaic
glass
shirt collar, framing a small,
clean-shaved, delicate face. It was
wonderfully fresh for his age, beautifully modelled and lit up by remarkably candid blue eyes. A lot of white hair, glossy like spun glass,
curled slightly under the brim of his
ancient
panama hat with a broad
black ribbon. In the aspect of that
Vivacious,
neat,
little old man there was
something angelic and boyish.

He accosted me, as though he had been in the habit of seeing me
every day of his life from my earliest childhood, with a whimsical
remark on the appearance of a stout negro woman who was sitting
upon a stool
near the edge of the quay. Presently he observed amiably that I had a
very pretty little barque.

I returned this civil speech by saying readily :
"Not so pretty as the Hilda."

innocent
At this the corners of his clear-cut/mouth dropped dismally.
O, dear!
--"am I can hardly bear to look at her now."

(he asked at once, that) up his ship
Did I know he had lost the figure-head? A woman in a blue tunic ed.

edged with gold, the face not so very pretty but the white arms beau-
tifully shaped and divinely as if she were swimming. No, I didn't
expected such a thing! ... After twenty years, too.

Nobody could have guessed from his tone that the woman was made of wood; his trembling voice, his agitated manner, gave him a ludicrously scandalous and pathetic flavour... Disappeared at night--a clear fine night with just a slight swell--in the gulf of Bengal. Went off without a splash one in the slipway. Could guess at what hour--after twenty years last October....

--"Did you ever hear....."

I assured his sympathetically that I had never heard--and he became very doleful. This meant no good to me. There was something there which was inoperable. But when I suggested that another figure, a woman, could understand me, he felt.

The man I found myself being soundly rated for my levity. The old boy flushed pink under his clear tan as if I had suggested something highly improper. One could replace masts, or a lost rudder--any working part of a ship, but was the sense of sticking up a new figure-head? When satisfaction? How could one care for it? It was easy to see that I had never been a shipmate with a figure-head for twenty years.

--"Another figure head!" he said in unquenchable indignation.

"Why! I've been a widower now for two and thirty years come next

May and I would just as soon think of getting a new wife. You're as bad as that fellow Jacobus."

It was a good as a play. Jacobus now, "What has he done?" Did he want you to marry again captain?" I inquired. But he was launched at now and only grinned fiercely.

--"Procure-- indeed! He's the chap to procure you anything you like for a price. I hadn't been moored here an hour when he wanted to sell me a figure-head he happens to have in his yard somewhere. He got Smith, my mate, to talk to me about it. "Mr Smith" says I, "Don't you know me better than that? Am I the sort that would pick up with another man's cast-off figure head? ...And after all these years too! The way some of you talk...."

I affected a compunction and as I stepped into the boat I said soberly.

--"Then I see nothing for it but to fit in a neat fiddle head--perhaps. You know, carved scroll work, nicely gilt.

He looked very dejected after his outburst.

Scroll work.

--"Yes. May be. Jacobus hinted at that too. He's never at a loss when there's any money to be extracted from a sailor-man. He would make me pay

37

Burns stickaus hat in hand, looking incredibly vulgarised by his smart shore togs, with a jaunty air and an odious twinkle in his eye. Being asked to sit down he laid his hat and stick on the table and after we had talked of ship affairs for a little while :
--"I've been hearing a little on shore about that shipchandler fellow who snatched the job from you sir."

I remonstrated with my late patient for that manner of expressing himself. But he only tossed his head disdainfully. A pretty dodge indeed: a strange ship with breakfast (for all hands and inviting himself to the captain's table!) Never heard anything so crafty and so impudent in his life.

I found myself defending Jacobus' unusual methods.
--"He's the brother of one of the wealthiest merchants in the port.
The wate's his eyes fairly snapped green sparks.

--"His grand brother hasn't spoken to him for eighteen or twenty years," he declared triumphantly. "So there!"
all about interrupted

--"Do you sir ? H'm !"

His mind was still running on the ethics of commercial

38

to see

competition. "I don't like your good nature taken advantage of. He's

(bribed that steward of ours with a five rupee note to) --or ten for that

 matter. He will show them and more

into the bill presently."

--"Is that the tale you have heard ashore" I asked.

He assured me that his own sense could tell him that. No; what I

he had heard on shore in the whole town

he had a rather fine old fashioned house in one of the quiet streets

with a big garden. After telling me all this he added mysteriously

"He has a girl there who, they say ..."

--"I suppose you've heard all this gossip in some eminently respec-
table place" I sniggered in a sarcastic tone.

The next day because Mr Burns like many other disagreeable
people was very sensitive himself. He remained with his mouth open
for some further communication is if thunder-struck but I cut him short.
--"And anyhow what the dauce do I care" I added retiring into my
room.

And this was a natural thing to say. Yet somehow I was not in-
different. I admit it is absurd to be concerned with the individua-
lity of one's shipchandler, however well connected. That personality

however had stamped itself upon my first day in harbour in the way
you know.

But after this initial exploit he showed himself not especially
intrusive. He was out in a boat early every morning going round the
ships he served, and occasionally remaining on board one of them for
breakfast with the captain.

As I discovered that this practice was generally accepted, I
just nodded to him familiarly when one morning on coming out of my
room I found him in the cabin. Glancing over the table I saw
that his place was already laid. He stood, awaiting my appearance,
very bulky and placid, holding a bunch of flowers in his thick podgy
hand. He offered them to my notice with a faint, sleepy smile. From
his own garden: had a very fine old garden: picked them himself
before going out to business: thought I would like". He turned away.
--"Steward, can you give me a long drink, please?" I asked.

I said him as I took my place at the table, that he made me feel
as if I were a pretty girl, and that he musn't be surprised if I
flushed. But he was busy arranging his floral tribute at the sideboard.

--"Stand it before the captain's plate steward. He