The black mate felt this parting with his wife more than any of
the previous ones in all the years of bad luck. But she was of the
undismayed kind, and showed less trouble in her gentle face than the
black-haired, buccaneer-like, but dignified mate of the _Sapphire_. It
may be that her conscience was less disturbed than her husband's. Of
course, his life had no secret places for her; but a woman's conscience
is somewhat more resourceful in finding good and valid excuses. It
depends greatly on the person that needs them, too.

They had agreed that she should not come down to the Dock to see him
off. "I wonder you care to look at me at all," said the sensitive man.
And she did not laugh.

Bunter was very sensitive; he left her rather brusquely at the last.
He got on board in good time, and produced the usual impression on the
mud-pilot in the broken-down straw hat who took the _Sapphire_ out of
dock. The river-man was very polite to the dignified, striking-looking
chief mate. "The five-inch manilla for the check-rope, Mr.--Bunter,
thank you--Mr. Bunter, please." The sea-pilot who left the "gem of
ships" heading comfortably down Channel off Dover told some of his
friends that, this voyage, the _Sapphire_ had for chief mate a man
who seemed a jolly sight too good for old Johns. "Bunter's his name.
I wonder where he's sprung from? Never seen him before in any ship
I piloted in or out all these years. He's the sort of man you don't
forget. You couldn't. A thorough good sailor, too. And won't old Johns
just worry his head off! Unless the old fool should take fright at
him--for he does not seem the sort of man that would let himself be put
upon without letting you know what he thinks of you. And that's exactly
what old Johns would be more afraid of than of anything else."