either, he
corrected, and would Captain Blaise come ashore and have a drink or two
of good liquor? And Captain Blaise replied that he carried as good
liquor in his locker as ever graced any sideboard ashore. And they
dropped into the cabin, where I happened to be, and had a glass of wine
and a word or two, and another glass and a few more words; and at last
Rimmle put the question: Would Captain Blaise run one more draft?

Long ago, Captain Blaise promised me that there was to be no more
slave-running, and as he never lied to me, I wondered now why he paused
and pondered as if debating with himself. At last he looked up. "It
doesn't pay any more, Rimmle."

"Well, in these days," observed Rimmle, "I don't blame you, with the
bull-dogs of men-o'-war making it so hot."

We all had to smile at that, and Rimmle, seeing that Captain Blaise was
not to be shamed into it, went on. "But suppose there was larger
head-money than ever was paid before, Captain? And if half the
head-money and the crew's pay were laid down in advance? For it is hard,
as you have often said, Captain, that anything should happen to brave
and willing men on such a cruise and they have neither profit nor safety
of it." It was the old talk all over again, the agent urging him once
more to take to slave-running, except that in other days Captain Blaise
had displayed less patience.

The wineglasses had already been filled too frequently for me, and,
pleading business, I had spread out a coast chart on the other end of
the cabin table and was studying it, this by way of removing myself from
a conversation which I saw was not to end with trading or slave-running.

This Rimmle was one of those who held Captain Blaise for a sort of idol.
I had seen dozens of the kind before. Great hours for them when they
could sit in with the famous Captain Blaise, and so now, with the agent
bound to talk of the West Coast trade, lawful and otherwise, Captain
Blaise was making but slow headway.

I was thinking of stepping up on deck to stretch my legs, when the
conversation took a sudden shift. "Captain"--Rimmle put the question
hesitatingly--"I thought I had seen the last of you. May I ask what
lured you back?"

Captain Blaise had decanted another bottle and was viewing the
rich-colored bubbles as he held the carafe up against the light. Such
little things afforded him keen pleasure. He set the carafe
down--softly--only to ask by way of reply: "Rimmle, what is it always