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“See, here–Fights for the Flag! And, on top of it, Deeds What Won the Silly Empire! And the old blighter ‘oped that I’d be a good boy, and grow up, and win some more. For the likes of him, he meant–Yuss, I don’t think! . . . Oh, hold my little hand and check the tearful flow, for I’m to be a ship’s boy at ‘arf-a-crown a month, and go Empire buildin’!”

“There!” said Mr. Harris, indicating a coil of rope. “Sit down and have it out.”

VI.

Some five or six years later, Mr. Harris–who resides in a small West Country town, the name of which does not concern us–was seated in his library reading, when his parlourmaid brought him a card– “Mr. Wilkins, I.T.S. Egeria.”

“I scarcely hoped that you would remember me, sir,” began the Schoolmaster, on being introduced. “But, happening to pass through– on a holiday trip, a walking tour–I ventured to call and ask news of Link Andrew. You may remember our having a conversation about him once on board the Egeria?“

“I remember it perfectly,” said Mr. Harris; “and you’ll be glad to hear that Andrew is doing remarkably well; is saving money, in fact, and contemplates getting married.”

“Indeed, sir, that is good hearing. I was afraid that he might have left your employment.”

“So, to be sure, he has; taking with him, moreover, an excellent character. He is now a second gardener at a steady wage.”

“You can’t think, sir, how you relieve my mind. To tell the truth, I met him, less than an hour ago; and by his manner . . . But I had better tell you how it happened: I knew, of course, that you had interested yourself in Link and found a job for him. But after he’d left the ship he never let us hear word of his doings. . . . Well, passing through your town just now, I ran up against him. He was coming along the street, and I recognised him on the instant; but all of a sudden he turned and began to stare in at a shop-window–an ironmonger’s–giving me his back. I made sure, of course, that he hadn’t spied me; so I stepped up and said I, ‘Hallo, Link, my lad!’ clapping a hand on his shoulder. He turned about, treated me to a long stare, and says he, ‘Aren’t you makin’ some mistake, mister?’ ‘Why,’ says I, ‘surely I haven’t changed so much as all that since the days I taught you vulgar fractions on board the old Egeria? I’m Mr. Wilkins,’ says I. ‘Oh, are you?’ says he. ‘Then, Mr. Wilkins, you can go back to hell and take ’em my compliments there.’ That’s all he said, and he walked away down the street.”

“That’s queer,” said Mr. Harris, polishing his spectacles. “Yes, he came to me as gardener’s boy–I thought it would be a pleasant change after the ship; and he served his apprenticeship well. I remember that in answer to my application the Secretary wrote: ‘Of course we prefer to train our lads to the sea; but when one has no aptitude for it–‘”

Mr. Harris paused, for the Schoolmaster was smiling broadly.

“Good Lord, sir!–if you’ll excuse me. Link Andrew no aptitude for the sea! Why, that lad’s seamanship saved my life once: and, what’s more, it saved the whole yacht’s company! Hasn’t he ever told you about it?”

“Not a word. I think,” said Mr. Harris, “our friend Link chooses to keep his past in watertight compartments. Sit down and tell me about it.”

VII.

This was the Schoolmaster’s story:

“It happened on that very cruise, sir. The Swallow had been knocking around at various West Country regattas–Weymouth, Torquay, Dartmouth, finishing up with Plymouth. From Plymouth we were to sail for home.