"

This was rank heresy, and moreover seemed to imply something. Captain
Nugent wondered dismally whether life ashore would infect him with the
same opinions.

"What about that man of mine who threw a belaying-pin at me?"

The harbour-master quailed at the challenge. The obvious retort was
offensive.

"I shall carry the mark with me to my grave," added the captain, as a
further inducement to him to reply.

"I hope that you'll carry it a long time," said the harbour-master,
gracefully.

"Here, look here, Hall!" expostulated captain number two, starting up.

"It's all right, Cooper," said Nugent.

"It's all right," said captain number one, and in a rash moment undertook
to explain. In five minutes he had clouded Captain Cooper's intellect
for the afternoon.

He was still busy with his self-imposed task when a diversion was created
by the entrance of a new arrival. A short, stout man stood for a moment
with the handle of the door in his hand, and then came in, carefully
bearing before him a glass of gin and water. It was the first time that
he had set foot there, and all understood that by this intrusion Mr.
Daniel Kybird sought to place sea-captains and other dignitaries on a
footing with the keepers of slop-shops and dealers in old clothes. In
the midst of an impressive silence he set his glass upon the table and,
taking a chair, drew a small clay pipe from his pocket.

[Illustration: "A diversion was created by the entrance of a new
arrival."]

Aghast at the intrusion, the quartette conferred with their eyes, a
language which is perhaps only successful in love. Captain Cooper, who
was usually moved to speech by externals, was the first to speak.

"You've got a sty coming on your eye, Hall," he remarked.

"I daresay."

"If anybody's got a needle," said the captain, who loved minor
operations.

Nobody heeded him except the harbour-master, and he muttered something
about beams and motes, which the captain failed to understand. The
others were glaring darkly at Mr. Kybird, who had taken up a newspaper
and was busy perusing it.

"Are you looking for anybody?" demanded Captain Nugent, at last.

"No," said Mr. Kybird, looking at him over the top of his paper.

"What have you come here for, then?" inquired the captain.

"I come 'ere to drink two o' gin cold," returned Mr. Kybird, with a
dignity befitting the occupation.

"Well, suppose you drink it somewhere else," suggested the captain.

Mr.