“And called you in, sonny, to lend ’im an ’and at the job, didn’t ’e?  All I can say is you’d both have been better employed putting in your time and talents somewhere else.”

After which sally the two smoked in silence, while the ship’s dog alternately stretched himself on the hot boards, and started up with a yelp to snap at the cloud of buzzing flies again.

The steward merely bided his time, however, and enquired presently with a nice air of nonchalance: 

“Never been married, Partington, ’ave you?  I’ve often known that put a fellow sadly off the sex.”

“Never,” the other replied, “though I came precious near it once, when I was a youngster and greener—­greener even than you with your little lovey-doveys and your manly bosom, William, which is allowing a lot.  But my wife as was to ’ave been—­met her down Bristol way, gone blind silly on ’er I was—­got took with the smallpox the week before the ceremony was pulled off, and give me all she had to spare of the disease with her dying breath.  Soft chap as I was then, I held it as a sort of a compliment.  Afterwards, when the crape had worn a bit brown, I saw it was jealousy of any other female I might come to cast my eye over as made her act like that.”

“A private sore!” William commented.  “To tell you gospel truth, Partington, I guessed as much.  But you should learn to tike the larger view.  Blimey, you should rise above that.  To be marked like you are is a misfortune, I don’t pretend to the contrary, looking at it along the level so to speak.  But beauty’s so much dust and ashes, if yer can just boost yerself up to tike the larger view.  Think of all that pore dying woman mayn’t ’ave saved you from by making yer outward fascinations less staring to the sex?  Regular honey-pot to every passing petticoat you might ’ave been.”

He broke off, springing erect and shading his eyes with one hand to obtain a better view.

“My Sammy—­whoever’s the skipper a bringing ’ome ’ere with him?  Dooks and duchesses and all the blamed airistorkracy?—­English too, or I’m a blooming nigger.—­Tea for a lidy?—­I should rather think it.—­Partington, I’m off to put meself inside of a clean jacket and make sure the cockroaches ain’t holding a family sing-song on my best white table-cloth.—­Say, that young ole man of ours don’t stop ’arf way up the ladder, once ’e starts climbing.  Gets to the top rung ’e does stright orf, s’elp me.  And tikes ’is ease there, seemingly, as to the manner born.  Looks like he does any’ow, the way ’e’s behaving of hisself now.—­So long, bo’sun,” he added jauntily.  “I’m called from yer side to descend the companion ong route for higher spheres.  Sounds like a contradiction that, but ain’t so.—­See you again when the docks ’as quitted this fond old floating ’earse of ours and took themselves back to their ’ereditary marble ’alls to roost.”

On the other side of the quay, meanwhile, in the brave dancing breeze and the sunshine, Darcy Faircloth stepped down on to the uneven paving just opposite to where the Forest Queen lay.  Colonel Carteret followed and stood aside, leaving him to hand Damaris out of the open carriage.