"He might be artful and keep his faults to himself," suggested Tredgold.

"So long as he does that, it's all right," said Captain Bowers. "I can't
find fault if there's no faults to find fault with. The best steward I
ever had, I found out afterwards, had escaped from gaol. He never wanted
to go ashore, and when the ship was in port almost lived in his pantry."

"I never heard of Tasker having been in gaol," said Mr. Tredgold.
"Anyhow, I'm certain that he never broke out of one; he's far too
stupid."

As he paid this tribute the young man referred to entered laden with
parcels, and, gazing awkwardly at the company, passed through the room on
tiptoe and began to busy himself in the pantry. Mr. Tredgold, refusing
the captain's invitation to stay for a cup of tea, took his departure.

"Very nice youngster that," said the captain, looking after him. "A
little bit light-hearted in his ways, perhaps, but none the worse for
that."

He sat down and looked round at his possessions. "The first real home
I've had for nearly fifty years," he said, with great content. "I hope
you'll be as happy here as I intend to be. It sha'n't be my fault if
you're not."

Mr. Tredgold walked home deep in thought, and by the time he had arrived
there had come to the conclusion that if Miss Drewitt favoured her
mother, that lady must have been singularly unlike Captain Bowers in
features.