When he finished, he held it out to me.
"I've got my crew," he said curtly.
"There isn't--I suppose there's no chance of your needing another
hand?"
"No." He turned away, then glanced back at the letter I was still
holding, rather dazed. "You can leave your name and address with
the mate over there. If anything turns up he'll let you know."
My address! The hospital?
I folded the useless letter and thrust it into my pocket. The
captain had gone forward, and the girl with the cool eyes was leaning
against the rail, watching me.
"You are the man Mr. McWhirter has been looking after, aren't you?"
"Yes." I pulled off my cap, and, recollecting myself--"Yes, miss."
"You are not a sailor?"
"I have had some experience--and I am willing."
"You have been ill, haven't you?"
"Yes--miss."
"Could you polish brass, and things like that?"
"I could try. My arms are strong enough. It is only when I walk--"
But she did not let me finish. She left the rail abruptly, and
disappeared down the companionway into the after house. I waited
uncertainly. The captain saw me still loitering, and scowled. A
procession of men with trunks jostled me; a colored man, evidently a
butler, ordered me out of his way while he carried down into the
cabin, with almost reverent care, a basket of wine.
When the girl returned, she came to me, and stood for a moment,
looking me over with cool, appraising eyes. I had been right about
her appearance: she was charming--or no, hardly charming. She was
too aloof for that. But she was beautiful, an Irish type, with
blue-gray eyes and almost black hair. The tilt of her head was
haughty. Later I came to know that her hauteur was indifference:
but at first I was frankly afraid of her, afraid of her cool,
mocking eyes and the upward thrust of her chin.
"My brother-in-law is not here," she said after a moment, "but my
sister is below in the cabin. She will speak to the captain about
you. Where are your things?"
I glanced toward the hospital, where my few worldly possessions,
including my dress clothes, my amputating set, and such of my books
as I had not been able to sell, were awaiting disposition. "Very
near, miss," I said.
"Better bring them at once; we are sailing in the morning." She
turned away as if to avoid my thanks, but stopped and came back.
"We are taking you as a sort of extra man," she explained. "You
will work with the crew, but it is possible that we will need you--
do you know anything about butler's work?"
I hesitated. If I said yes, and then failed-"I could try."