d that rather blank side of the situation I had
created for myself by leaving suddenly my very satisfactory employment.
And I was not very pleased with it. I had it on the tip of my tongue
to say that common sense had nothing to do with my action, and that
therefore it didn't deserve the interest Captain Giles seemed to be
taking in it. But he was puffing at a short wooden pipe now, and looked
so guileless, dense, and commonplace, that it seemed hardly worth while
to puzzle him either with truth or sarcasm.

He blew a cloud of smoke, then surprised me by a very abrupt: "Paid your
passage money yet?"

Overcome by the shameless pertinacity of a man to whom it was rather
difficult to be rude, I replied with exaggerated meekness that I had
not done so yet. I thought there would be plenty of time to do that
to-morrow.

And I was about to turn away, withdrawing my privacy from his fatuous,
objectless attempts to test what sort of stuff it was made of, when he
laid down his pipe in an extremely significant manner, you know, as if a
critical moment had come, and leaned sideways over the table between us.

"Oh! You haven't yet!" He dropped his voice mysteriously. "Well, then I
think you ought to know that there's something going on here."

I had never in my life felt more detached from all earthly goings on.
Freed from the sea for a time, I preserved the sailor's consciousness of
complete independence from all land affairs. How could they concern
me? I gazed at Captain Giles' animation with scorn rather than with
curiosity.

To his obviously preparatory question whether our Steward had spoken to
me that day I said he hadn't. And what's more he would have had precious
little encouragement if he had tried to. I didn't want the fellow to
speak to me at all.

Unrebuked by my petulance, Captain Giles, with an air of immense
sagacity, began to tell me a minute tale about a Harbour Office peon.
It was absolutely pointless. A peon was seen walking that morning on the
verandah with a letter in his hand. It was in an official envelope. As
the habit of these fellows is, he had shown it to the first white man
he came across. That man was our friend in the arm-chair. He, as I knew,
was not in a state to interest himself in any sublunary matters. He
could only wave the peon away. The peon then wandered on along the
verandah and came upon Captain Giles, who was there by an extraordinary
chance. . . .

At this point he stopped with a