We got up and went out on
the verandah, leaving the supine stranger to be dealt with by the
Chinamen. The last thing I saw they had put a plate with a slice of
pine-apple on it before him and stood back to watch what would
happen. But the experiment seemed a failure. He sat insensible.
It was imparted to me in a low voice by Captain Giles that this
was an officer of some Rajah's yacht which had come into our port
to be dry-docked. Must have been "seeing life" last night, he
added, wrinkling his nose in an intimate, confidential way which
pleased me vastly. For Captain Giles had prestige. He was credited
with wonderful adventures and with some mysterious tragedy in his
life. And no man had a word to say against him. He continued:
"I remember him first coming ashore here some years ago. Seems
only the other day. He was a nice boy. Oh! these nice boys!"
I could not help laughing aloud. He looked startled, then joined
in the laugh. "No! No! I didn't mean that," he cried. "What I meant
is that some of them do go soft mighty quick out here."
Jocularly I suggested the beastly heat as the first cause. But
Captain Giles disclosed himself possessed of a deeper philosophy.
Things out East were made easy for white men. That was all right.
The difficulty was to go on keeping white, and some of these nice
boys did not know how. He gave me a searching look, and in a
benevolent, heavy-uncle manner asked point blank:
"Why did you throw up your berth?"
I became angry all of a sudden; for you can understand how
exasperating such a question was to a man who didn't know. I said
to myself that I ought to shut up that moralist; and to him aloud I
said with challenging politeness:
"Why . . . ? Do you disapprove?"
He was too disconcerted to do more than mutter confusedly: "I! .
. . In a general way. . ." and then gave me up. But he retired in
good order, under the cover of a heavily humorous remark that he,
too, was getting soft, and that this was his time for taking his
little siesta—when he was on shore. "Very bad habit. Very bad
habit."
There was a simplicity in the man which would have disarmed a
touchiness even more youthful than mine. So when next day at tiffin
he bent his head toward me and said that he had met my late Captain
last evening, adding in an undertone: "He's very sorry you left.
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