requests to me to "Come along, sir! We have been delayed three hours for
you. . . . Our time is seven o'clock, you know!"

I stepped on the deck. I said "No! I don't know." The spirit of modern
hurry was embodied in a thin, long-armed, long-legged man, with a
closely clipped gray beard. His meagre hand was hot and dry. He declared
feverishly:

"I am hanged if I would have waited another five minutes Harbour-Master
or no Harbour-Master."

"That's your own business," I said. "I didn't ask you to wait for me."

"I hope you don't expect any supper," he burst out. "This isn't a
boarding-house afloat. You are the first passenger I ever had in my life
and I hope to goodness you will be the last."

I made no answer to this hospitable communication; and, indeed, he
didn't wait for any, bolting away on to his bridge to get his ship under
way.

The three days he had me on board he did not depart from that
half-hostile attitude. His ship having been delayed three hours on
my account he couldn't forgive me for not being a more distinguished
person. He was not exactly outspoken about it, but that feeling of
annoyed wonder was peeping out perpetually in his talk.

He was absurd.

He was also a man of much experience, which he liked to trot out; but no