“A very good little speech, Blair, but I think I know what I’m talking about.  After all, come now, the steamer only needs extra for coal, engineers, and stokers.  You don’t trust to chance at all; you don’t care a rush for wind or tide, and you can go like an arrow to the point you aim at.  Then, don’t you see, my very good nautical men—­Blair is an absolutely insufferable old Salt since he came home—­you can always disengage your propeller when there is a strong, useful wind, and you bank your fires.  Brassey told me that, and he said he could always get at least seven knots’ speed out of his boat if there was the least bit of a breeze.  Then, if you’re in a hurry, down goes your propeller, and off you go.  The wards must be in the middle—­what you call it, Blair, the taffrail?—­oh, amidships.  The wards must be amidships, and you must be able to lay on steam so as to work a lift.  You shove down a platform in a heavy sea, lower a light cage, put your wounded man in it, and steam away.  There you are; you may make your calls like the postman.  Bill Buncle breaks his leg on Sunday; his mates say, ’All right, William, the doctor’s coming to-morrow.’  You take me?  Tell me, how will you manage if you have a vessel short of hands to work her?”

“We propose to have several spare hands on board our hospital vessels.  Hundreds will be only too glad to go, and we shall always have a sound man to take the place of the patient.”

“Exactly.  Well, with steam you can deposit your men and take them off with all the regularity of an ordinary railway staff on shore.”

“But the money.  It is too colossal to think of.”

The falcon-faced old merchant waved his hand.  “Blair and I, and you too, Mr. Fullerton, not to mention Roche, are all business men, and we don’t brag about money.  But you know that if I fitted out and endowed ten steamers, I should still be a fairly comfortable man.  If you can’t keep a steamer going with L4,000 a year, you don’t deserve to have one, and if I choose to put down one hundred thousand, and you satisfy me as to the management, why should I not gratify my whimsy?”

“And I don’t mean to be behindhand if I satisfy myself as to the quality of the work to be done,” added Sir James.  “Cassall and I will arrange as to how many beds—­Roche beds, you understand—­I shall be permitted to endow.”

Fullerton sat dumb; a flush came and went over his clear face, and his lips moved.

Cassall proceeded:  “My idea is to have a sailing vessel and a steamer.  You have told us, Mr. Fullerton, that you must, in time, fit up half a dozen cruisers, if you mean to work efficiently, and our preliminary experiment will decide whether sail or steam is the better.  Now, Blair, you must let me fit up your boat for a cruise.”

“And pray why, Croesus?  You talk as if you meant going a-buccaneering.”

“I don’t know what you call it, but I’m going round among those fleets with my niece, and I shall start in a week.  If I’m satisfied, you shall hear from me.”  “And I’m going to play truant and go with you, Cassall,” said Sir James.