--but I had to admire him all the same. At his age no
doubt it may be demanded that a ship be put about for a bag left
behind. When this childish egoism is maintained well into life, large
fortunes may be made. It is, perhaps, the only way. As soon as a man
can relate his personal affairs to those of the world, and understands
how unimportant he really is, from that moment he becomes a failure.
Some men never do it, and thus succeed. Therefore I allowed the Boy to
lead me aboard, and so secured a good berth at once, to the envy of
those who were unaided by a child. Already I was informed that, after
due inspection, the steamer had plenty of boats, "so it won't matter if
we sink." In five minutes we had discovered the companions to
everywhere on that ship, and were, I believe, the only passengers who
could find our way about her before she left port.

But a glance seaward, and a word with an officer, gave me a thought or
two, and I broke off the Boy's interesting conversation with a fatherly
French quartermaster to take him where he could at least begin with
some food. "What a lark if there's a storm," laughed His Nibs, removing
a sandwich to say so. The fiddles were on the tables. We were off.

* * * * *

The ship gave a lurch, a ham leaped to the floor, some plates crashed,
and then the row of ports alongside us were darkened by the run of a
wave. The Boy made an exclamation partly stifled, and looked at me
quickly. I did not look at him, but went on with the food. He stopped
eating, and remained with his gaze fixed on the ports, gripping his
chair whenever they went dark. He said nothing about it, but he must
have been thinking pretty hard. "I suppose this is a strong ship, isn't
it?" he questioned once.

As we were about to emerge into the open, the wet, deserted deck fell
away, and a grey wave which looked as aged as death, its white hair
streaming in the wind, suddenly reared over the ship's side, as though
looking for us, and then fled phantom-like, with dire cries. The Boy
shrank back for a moment, horrified, but then moved on. I think I heard
him sigh. It was no summer sea. The dark bales of rain were speeding up
from the south-west, low over waters which looked just what the sea
really is.

I am glad he saw it like that. He hung on in a shelter with a
needlessly tight grip, and there was something of consternation in his
eye. But I enjoyed the cry of surprise he gav