"Rum lot of passengers this trip," he said."I don't seem to see any who look interesting.All Big Business and that sort of thing.I must say it's nice to have someone who can talk about books, and so on, once in a while."Gissing realized that sometimes a shipmaster's life must be a lonely one.The weight of responsibility is always upon him; etiquette prevents his becoming familiar with his officers; small wonder if he pines occasionally for a little congenial talk to relieve his mind.
"Big Business, did you say?" Gissing remarked."Ah, I could write you quite an essay about that.I used to be General Manager of Beagle and Company.""Come into my cabin and have a liqueur," said the skipper."Let the essay go until to-morrow."The Captain turned on the electric stove in his cabin, for the night was cold.It was a snug sanctum: at the portholes were little chintz curtains; over the bunk was a convenient reading lamp.On the wall a brass pendulum swung slowly, registering the roll of the ship.The ruddy shine of the stove lit up the orderly desk and the photographs of the Captain's family.
"Yours?" said Gissing, looking at a group of three puppies with droll Scottish faces."Aye," said the Captain.
"I've three of my own," said Gissing, with a private pang of homesickness.The skipper's cosy quarters were the most truly domestic he had seen since the evening he first fled from responsibility.
Captain Scottie was surprised.Certainly this eccentric stranger in the badly damaged wedding garments had not given the impression of a family head.Just then the steward entered with a decanter of Benedictine and small glasses.
"Brew days and bonny!" said the Captain, raising his crystal.
"Secure amidst perils!" replied Gissing courteously.It was the phrase engraved upon the ship's notepaper, on which he had been writing, and it had impressed itself on his mind.
"You said you had been a General Manager."Gissing told, with some vivacity, of his experiences in the world of trade.The Captain poured another small liqueur.
"They're fine halesome liquor," he said.
"Sincerely yours," said Gissing, nodding over the glass.He was beginning to feel quite at home in the navigating quarters of the ship, and hoped the potato-peeling might be postponed as long as possible.
"How far had you got in your essay?" asked the Captain.
"Not very far, I fear.I was beginning by laying down a few psychological fundamentals.""Excellent! Will you read it to me?"
Gissing went to get his manuscript, and read it aloud.The Captain listened attentively, puffing clouds of smoke.
"I am sorry this is such a short voyage," he said when Gissing finished."You have approached the matter from an entirely naif and instinctive standpoint, and it will take some time to show you your errors.Before I demolish your arguments I should like to turn them over in my mind.I will reduce my ideas to writing and then read them to you.""I should like nothing better," said Gissing."And I can think over the subject more carefully while I peel the potatoes.""Nonsense," said the Captain."I do not often get a chance to discuss theology.I will tell you my idea.You spoke of your experience as General Manager, when you had charge of a thousand employees.One of the things we need on this ship is a staff-captain, to take over the management of the personnel.That would permit me to concentrate entirely on navigation.In a vessel of this size it is wrong that the master should have to carry the entire responsibility."He rang for the steward.
"My compliments to Mr.Pointer, and tell him to come here."Mr.Pointer appeared shortly in oilskins, saluted, and gazed fixedly at his superior, with one foot raised upon the brass door-sill.
"Mr.Pointer," said Captain Scottie, "I have appointed Captain Gissing staff-captain.Take orders from him as you would from me.He will have complete charge of the ship's discipline.""Aye, aye, sir," said Mr.Pointer, stood a moment intently to see if there were further orders, saluted again, and withdrew.
"Now you had better turn in," said the skipper."Of course you must wear uniform.I'll send the tailor up to you at once.He can remodel one of my suits overnight.The trousers will have to be lengthened."On the chart-room sofa, Gissing dozed and waked and dozed again.On the bridge near by he heard the steady tread of feet, the mysterious words of the officer on watch passing the course to his relief.Bells rang with sharp double clang.Through the open port he could hear the alternate boom and hiss of the sea under the bows.With the stately lift and lean ofthe ship there mingled a faint driving vibration.
