The next day I had a full round of visits to make, so that I had little time to think over the adventure of the previous evening. On Saturday I made my way, as usual, to the West End, and spent the afternoon in luxury, basking in the renewal of my self-respect. I had leisure then to reflect, and, although the more I considered the less appeared the likelihood of any advantage to myself derivable out of Lane’s promise, yet I allowed myself the satisfaction of certain inquiries. No one in the club had heard of Morland, the millionaire, and the Sea Queen was unknown to my yachting friends. Moreover, no Morland appeared in the “Court Guide.” Still, it was quite possible, even probable, that he was an American; so that omission did not abash me. It was only when I rehearsed the circumstances in bald terms that I doubted to the point of incredulity. I had fished up a tipsy fellow, of a loose good-nature, who, under the stimulus of more whisky, had probably at the best offered more than he was entitled to do, and who, at the worst, had long since forgotten all about his Good Samaritan. The situation seemed easy of interpretation, and in the warmth of my pleasant intercourse with my companions I presently ceased to ponder it.

Yet, when I arrived at my house and opened the letter that awaited me, I will confess that I experienced a thrill of hope. It was from Hills, a firm of solicitors in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and, premising that I was a candidate for the post of doctor in the ss. Sea Queen, requested me to call on Monday at three o’clock. This looked, so to speak, like business, and I attended at the address with my mind made up and clear. If I was offered the position I would take it, and so cut my cable.

I had to wait some time in an ante-room, but presently was ushered into the presence of one of the partners, an amiable, business-like man, with the air of a country squire.

“Dr. Phillimore?” he queried introductively, and I assented.

“Please sit down, will you. You are anxious to take position of doctor on the Sea Queen.” He consulted some note before him. “I see. Your name has been mentioned to my client in this connection. I assume you are fully qualified?”

I told him the facts and referred him to the “Medical Year-Book.” “Moreover,” I added, “I have no doubt, if a recommendation were necessary, Sir John Wemyss, of Harley Street, would be willing to write to you.”

“Sir John Wemyss,” he echoed reflectively. “Oh, yes, the cancer man. Let me see, he was President, wasn’t he, of the College of Surgeons?”

“Yes, some years ago,” I answered.

“A good man,” he declared with a friendly air of patronage. “Well, I don’t suppose there would be any difficulty on that score if Sir John will write. My client is a prudent man, and would naturally like to have the best advice available. Moreover, he is quite willing to pay for it. There is, of course, that question,” and he looked at me as if inviting my suggestion.

I laughed. “Really I have no views, only that naturally I should like as large a salary as is compatible with the circumstances.”

“Very well, Dr. Phillimore,” said he, nodding. “I daresay we can arrange that too. You are young yet, and the position might lead” He broke off, as the baize door on his left opened noiselessly. “What is it, Pye?”

The clerk bent down and whispered to him. “Oh, very well! It’s opportune in a way. Will you ask Mr. Morland to be good enough to come in?”

The little clerk went out with his neat walk, and the solicitor rose. “I shall be able to introduce you to my client, who is the owner of the Sea Queen,” he said, with a certain change of voice, and quickly went forward to the outer door.

“How do you do, Mr. Morland?” he exclaimed, with a cheerful deference, such as was due to the presence of wealth. “I was just engaged on a little matter of yours. I hope you came right up. These dull offices go so much by routine. It was the question of a doctor, sir.”

As he spoke he indicated me, and for the first time I saw Mr. Morland.

He was a man of thirty-five, of middle height, slightly disposed to stoutness, but with a fine carriage, and with a bronzed, good-looking face, rendered heavier for the dull expression of his blue eyes. His hair, which was short and worn en brosse, after a foreign fashion, was straw-yellow.

“Is it the doctor?” he asked, after a glance at me, and though he spoke excellent English, there was also something a little foreign in his accent.

“Well, sir, we haven’t reached that point yet,” said the lawyer, smiling. “This is Dr. Phillimore, whom you wished me to

“Ah, yes,” said Mr. Morland, and he put out a hand mechanically. “You will arrange it,” he said to the other, with an air of command.

“Most certainly, sir, but I thought you would like to see, being on the spot

“No, there is only one thing. You know anything of throats?” he asked suddenly.

I told him I had studied under a specialist at the hospital, as it happened. In these days we doctors are compelled to take special courses in order to keep march with the times.

“That is right,” he said, nodding, and the smile that came upon his face turned the eyes bluer. He looked quite handsome. “We must all keep step with the times. I will look to you to arrange it,” he added again to the lawyer, and seemed to wait for my dismissal. The solicitor bowed me sharply from the room, for was not his millionaire client in waiting? And I went down the stairs.

It was now past four, and as I came out into the Square I saw before me the little lawyer’s clerk who had entered the room and had been called Pye. He was talking amiably to another man, and as I passed smiled at me through his pince-nez.

“You saw Mr. Morland?” he asked in a friendly way.

“Yes,” I said, and looked at the stranger. There seemed no necessity to say more.

“It is odd that you should encounter here, gentlemen,” said Pye, adjusting his glasses, “and yet I suppose it isn’t. Mr. Holgate, this gentleman is the future doctor of the Sea Queen.”

“Oh, dear me, it isn’t settled,” said I, with a laugh.

Pye beamed at me. “I think I know my chief’s face,” he said. “It’s my business to interpret him, particularly when he can’t interpret himself.”

The other man laughed lazily. He was a man with a big body, and a face round and gross in proportion, heavy-lidded eyes, and an imperturbable expression.

“This is Mr. Holgate, the third officer,” said Pye, by way of introduction, and somehow or other we began to walk in the direction of Holborn. When we had threaded the Great Turnstile the little clerk hesitated and swung round. “I was going to drink a glass of wine with Mr. Holgate. Perhaps you would join us, sir?”

“Gladly,” said I, for I had made up my mind to take tea before returning to Wapping, and somehow my interview had inspirited me. I took a sanguine view of my chances, for all my words to Pye. Moreover, I have always been interested in my fellow-creatures, and, finally, I was in the mood for a glass of something. Enters this trio, then, into the “Three Tuns” presently, and sits to a table in comfortable chairs, with the clatter of the street falling, like rain, on the senses, and the bright flare of gas among the dark barrels. There was about the place an odour of good-fellowship and of peace that pleased me who had not visited these haunts for years.

Little Pye turned his pince-nez on me as the attendant advanced.

“What’ll you have, doctor?” he asked.

I hesitated.

“I suppose it must be port,” said I; “port is more palatable and no more noxious in such places than any other wine.”

“Any port in a storm, in fact,” said the little man, looking at me quizzically.

“For my part” said Holgate, in his stuffy, fat voice.

“Port, you should say,” interposed Pye with brisk wit. He smiled at his smartness and his eyes seemed to challenge me to respond.

“There’s nothing to beat spirits and sound rum for choice, but as they won’t have it here, I’ll take brandy,” continued the third officer.

He lighted a cigar and began to smoke, examining everything within eyeshot attentively but with indifference. I think, except for the first glance he had bestowed upon me, that he had completely ignored my presence.

Little Pye put up his glass. “I drink,” said he, “to a prosperous voyage, Mr. Holgate, and to pleasant companions.”

“Prosperous voyage,” said the third officer wheezily, and I murmured something to the same effect.

“You say the old man’s velvet,” said Holgate, resuming his puffing.

“Well,” said Pye, beaming through his glasses, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say it, but he looks it. He looks kid-glove.”

“I hate ’em,” growled Holgate. “I’ve seen that kind on the ferry all airs and aitches, and frosty as a berg.”

“Well, of course, it would be much more satisfactory to be sailing under a real Tartar,” remarked the little man with mild pleasantry.

Holgate cast him a glance which inquired, but was indifferent. “What’s your idea, doctor?” he asked.

“I have none,” said I, smiling. “I am much more interested in third officers.”

His masklike face relaxed, and he stroked his black moustaches, and took a long pull of his cigar.

“That was very nice of you, doctor,” he said, nodding with more cordiality.

Pye drew an apple from his pocket, and carefully bit into it. I don’t know why, but it struck me as comical to see him at this schoolboy business, his ears alert, his glasses shining, and his white teeth going to and fro. He reminded me of a squirrel, a fancy to which the little tufts of whiskers by his ears lent themselves. He eyed both of us brightly.

“After all,” said the third officer heavily, “it’s more important in the end to know your owner, let alone his travelling with you. I wouldn’t give two straws for the old man, velvet or iron, so long as I could get the lug of my owner.”

“You’ll find them both all right,” said Pye reassuringly. “Captain Day I have seen and Mr. Morland I know.”

“He is very rich?” I asked.

“I’ll trouble you for a two and a half commission on it,” said the clerk cheerfully, “and then I’d live like a fighting-cock. At least, that’s what we all believe. There’s no knowing.”

The shadows of the November afternoon had gathered in the streets without, and a thin scant rain was flying. Into the area of warmth and brightness entered more customers, and shook the water from the umbrellas. They stood at the bar and drank and talked noisily. Round about us in the loom of the great barrels the shadows lurched from the wagging gas-flames. The clerk had finished his apple.

“We will have another,” said Holgate.

“This is mine,” I said. He shook his head. I protested.

“Doctor, you confess you live in doubt,” he said, “whereas I have my appointment in my pocket. Plainly it is my right.”

“I think that’s a fair argument, doctor,” said Pye.

“I am in both your debt,” said I lightly. “For company and wine.”

“I’m sure we shall owe you both many a time yet,” said the third officer civilly.

At the table near us two men had sat and were talking even as we, but one had a half-penny paper, and turned the flimsy thing about, I fancy in search of racing news.

“You see there is no doubt about you,” began Pye amiably, and suddenly dropped his sentence.

In the unexpected silence I caught some words from the other table.

“Well, it’s good pluck of him if he wants to marry her. What’s the odds if he is a Prince? Live and let live, I say.”

Pye’s little squirrel head turned round and he stared for a moment at the speaker, then it came back again.

“You are uncommonly polite,” said Holgate irritably.

“I’m sorry. I thought I recognised that voice,” said the little man sweetly. “One gets echoes everywhere. I was going to say we took you for granted, doctor.”

“It’s good of you,” said I. “But will Mr. Morland?”

“I can practically answer for my employer; I can’t say anything about Mr. Morland, who has, however, authorised us to appoint.”

“The yacht is from Hamburg?” said I.

“I believe so,” said he.

“And its destination?”

“That knowledge is quite out of my province,” said the squirrel briefly.

When one came to think of it, it was almost a snub, and I had never any patience for these legal silences. As he shut his jaws he looked a man who could keep a secret, and knew his own mind. Yet he had been so easily familiar that I flushed with resentment. Confound these little professional tricks and solemnities! We were meeting on another ground than lawyer and client.

“I dare say it will be within the cabin-boy’s province to-morrow,” said I, somewhat sharply.

“Very likely,” he assented, and Holgate, who had turned at my tone, exchanged a glance with him.

“Mr. Pye is fond of keeping his own counsel,” said the third officer in his slow voice, “and I’m not sure he isn’t right, being a lawyer.”

“But he isn’t a lawyer here,” I protested.

Pye smiled. “No; I’m not,” he said, “and please don’t remind me of it”; at which we all laughed and grew friendly again. “Well, this is a funny sort of tea for me,” said the clerk presently. “I generally patronise the A.B.C.,” and he rose to go.

Holgate did not move, but sat staring at the fire, which shone on his broad placid face. “I knew a man once,” he observed, “who kept his own counsel.”

“I hope he was a lawyer,” said Pye humourously.

“No; he was a steward the steward of an estate in the North. In the hills was the wealth of a millionaire; coal, doctor,” Holgate looked at me. “And he kept his counsel and held his tongue.”

“With what object?” I asked.

“Oh, a little syndicate succeeded in buying it from the owner, and now it’s a seven-figure affair.”

His face had no expression of inquiry or of inviting comment. He had simply stated history, but I was moved to say flippantly,

“What luck!”

“The steward got it?” asked Pye.

“He romped in,” said the third officer.

“And will presently be a baronet,” said I lightly.

“Stranger things have happened,” he remarked, and began to smile. I fancy we all smiled, though it was not, of course, altogether humourous.

“Is that called robbery?” asked Holgate.

“I doubt if the law covers it,” said Pye. “No; it’s quite an innocent transaction.”

“What is robbery?” I asked cynically. “Lawyers may feel their way amid the intricacies, but no one else can hope to. I’m stealing now when I take these matches.”

“I will follow your example,” said Holgate, and did so.

“I’m not sure that that’s not perks,” said little Pye with his quizzical glance.

“Well, is it perks if I buy a picture from you for ten bob which I know to be worth L1,000?” inquired Holgate.

Pye considered. “I give it up,” he said.

“Which only proves,” said I, continuing my mood, “that it takes a good capercutter to move in and out moral sanctions.”

“I don’t believe I know what that means quite,” said Holgate, giving me the full charge of his steady eyes.

I stooped and warmed my fingers, for the cold blast of the streets was forbidding. “Well, the most famous people have been those who have successfully performed the egg dance between commandments,” I remarked.

“I suppose they have,” said Holgate thoughtfully.

I rose abruptly, and in the glass above the mantelpiece the two figures behind me came into vision. The little clerk’s eyebrows were elevated in a question, and the men faced each other. Holgate’s lips were pursed and he nodded. I saw this in the flash of rising, and then I turned about.

“I shall get a wigging,” said Pye, seizing his umbrella.

We walked out and I bade them good-bye after a civil exchange of amenities; then I took an omnibus down Chancery Lane and made for the Underground. As I travelled back, my thoughts circled about the situation; I was glad to have made the acquaintance of one or more of my shipmates, if, of course, I was to join the company. Holgate puzzled me for a third officer, until I reflected that in these days every officer had a master’s licence. Yet that this man should not by the force of his evident individuality take higher rank in life surprised me. What, however, was of most immediate concern to me was the extreme friendliness of my two companions. Lane was well enough in his way, and certainly had shown his goodwill; but Holgate was more than this to a lonely man with an appetite for society. Holgate was intelligent.

I found a few patients waiting, and disposed of them by eight o’clock, after which I strolled down to the docks, in spite of the drizzle. I have said that I am interested in my fellows, and, in addition, I confess to a certain forethought. I walked down to the docks with the deliberate intention of acquiring some information about the Sea Queen, if that were possible. I knew the name of the owner, or at least of the man who had chartered her; I had the name and acquaintance of one or two of the company; but I knew nothing as to her destination, her properties as a boat, or her time of sailing. Some of this ignorance I hoped to remedy by my visit. And it seemed that I was in the way to do so from the start. For no sooner was I on the quay in the neighbourhood of the yacht than I came upon a handsome young man in the dress of a superior sailor, with whom I fell into talk. He was outspoken as a child, but volunteered nothing of his own initiative an amiable, sluggish, respectful fellow who was, as he stated, quartermaster on the Sea Queen.

I confessed my interest in her, at which he indulgently supplied me with information.

“I signed on at Glasgow, sir and most of us too and we picked up Mr. Morland at Hamburg him and the ladies.”

“The ladies!” I echoed, for here was a surprise.

“Yes; two ladies what came with him Miss Morland and another lady, a dark one,” said my friend.

“Oh!” said I. “Then you’re off for a pleasure cruise.”

“I hardly know, sir,” said he. “They do say New York, but I haven’t heard definite.”

That looked in favour of my theory of Mr. Morland as an American. He was perhaps a Trust King, and Miss Morland a vivacious “beauty” from Chicago.

Here my companion suggested that I might care to have a look at the yacht.

“My friend,” said I, “you mustn’t let me take you on false pretences. I may be your doctor, and I may be not.”

“Oh, that’s all right, sir,” said he easily. “It can’t do no harm. We’re only loading up with provisions, and there’s no mess about.”

We ascended the gangway, and entered the dark ship, which was singularly silent. He had already the sailor’s affection for his floating home, and pointed me out one or two points for admiration which I understood but ill, as they were technical. As we were peeping into the saloon, a man passed us and stopped sharply.

“That you, Ellison?” he asked in a harsh voice. “Who’s that?”

“Only a gentleman having a look round. He’s to be doctor,” said the quartermaster.

The man made no reply, but stared at me, and then went on swiftly.

“Rather abrupt,” I commented, smiling.

“Oh, that’s nothing. It is only his way,” said the good-natured fellow. “He’s the boatswain.”

“Is Mr. Morland an American?” I asked.

“I don’t know, sir. I’ve hardly seen him. We signed on at Glasgow with a little slip of a fellow representing Mr. Morland glasses and side-whiskers.”

“That would be Mr. Pye,” I said.

“Very likely. Would you like to take a squint at the engines? Mr. McCrae is on board.”

He led me, without waiting for answer, towards the engine-room, and called out, “Mr. McCrae!” which brought presently a little, red-faced, bearded man from the depths. “This gentleman wants to know what you can do,” said my friend, by way of introduction. The engineer nodded towards me. “We can make eighteen,” he said, wiping his hands on a greasy piece of rag. “Eighteen at a pinch, but I keep her going steady at fourteen.”

“A good boat!” said I.

“Aye, tolerable,” he said, and pulled out a sheet of paper, which he began to peruse under the slender light. “This now’s another slap in the eye for the Emperor,” said McCrae, “this business of the Prince.”

“What is it?” I asked. “I haven’t seen the papers to-night.”

He rapped his knuckles on the newspaper. “This Prince Frederic of Hochburg kicking over the traces. I tell ye I’m real sorry for the old man. I pity him, Emperor though he be. He’s had his sup of troubles.”

“But I don’t understand what this new one is,” I said.

McCrae was not above explaining. “Well, y’see, this Prince Frederic is the heir to the Duchy of Hochburg, and he has taken up with some singer, and swears he’ll resign his inheritance and marry her. That’s where the mischief is. Not that the man’s not right,” proceeded the Scotchman, warming, evidently, to his opinions. “For why should Princes be exempt from the disposition of Providence. Let him come forward like a man, and, ye’ll see, he’ll gain the univairsal sympathy of Europe for his honesty.”

“It certainly increases the Emperor’s difficulties,” I said. “For with a vacancy at Hochburg, and the Pan-German movement in full swing

“Aye, ye’re a student of political affairs,” broke in the engineer in his broad Glasgow accent. “And I’ll not say there isn’t something to be said at the present juncture of European politics. But, man, the principle’s all wrong. Why is a man, no better than you or me, to ride over us, whether it be riches, or kings, or emperors? It’s the accident of birth, and the accident of riches, that dictates to us, and I’m thinking it ought to be set right by legislation.”

“Well, we are getting along to the Millennium famously,” said I, jestingly.

“The Millennium!” he said, with a contemptuous snort.

I think Ellison was pleased to see us getting on so pleasantly in argument, as he was responsible for the introduction, and he now ventured on a statement in the hopes, no doubt, of cementing the acquaintanceship.

“This gentleman’s coming along with us, Mr. McCrae,” he said.

The engineer looked at me.

“I have put in for doctor, but it’s by no means certain,” I explained.

“Oh, well, we’ll hope it is,” he said affably, and to the quartermaster: “Ellison, this gentleman’ll, maybe, take a finger of whisky to his own health and ours,” he added, with a relaxation of his grim face at his jest. “Ye’ll find a bottle in my cabin.”

So when the quartermaster had returned, once more I had to drink to the success of my application. It appeared that the Sea Queen was peopled with amiable spirits, if I excepted the boatswain; and as I went over the side I congratulated myself on having already made the acquaintance of two more of my shipmates on a friendly footing if I were destined to the appointment.

On my way home it struck me that I had already heard of the affair of Prince Frederic. The remark of the man at the next table in the “Three Tuns” must have referred to the scandal, and as I reflected on that, I could see in my mind’s eye the little clerk’s head go round in a stare at our neighbours.