I had to put him down, because of course I had flopped down in the wrong
place. I notice that in small boats one always does. The child took his
cap off again and said "merci," and I had to smile at Yves, the
Frenchman, whose grin distinctly showed that the way to his heart lies
through that kiddy.

We were off at once, and I sat astern near the ancient. Yves had gone
forward and the doctor, after the usual totally unnecessary concern as to
rugs and either useless things, followed him and appeared to practice his
French on the sailor.

"That there Frenchy," Captain Sammy confided to me, "is most crazy over
th' young 'un. I never did see sich a thing in all me born days."

"He must be awfully proud of such a dear little son," I answered.

"There's them as says it ain't the son o' he," replied Sammy. "He don't
never talk about the bye. They says he jist picked him up somewheres,
jist some place or other. You would hardly think what a plenty they is as
have fathers or mothers neither, along th' coast."

This opened to me a vista of troops of kiddies wandering up and down the
cliffs, wailing the poor daddies that will never be given back by the
rough sea, and the mothers who found life harder than they could bear,
and it saddened me. You always said I must beware of my imagination,
but I think there was a funded reality in that vision. Then I was
compelled to look about me, for we were passing through headlands at the
narrow mouth of the cove, the long lift of the open sea bore us up and
down again, softly, like an easy low swing. That terrible reek of fish
had disappeared and the air was laden with the delightful pungency of