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She would have to go。〃
〃Nothing more to do； eh？〃
〃No； sir。 I could do no more。〃
He gave a bitter half…laugh。
〃You could always say your prayers。〃
He got up； stretched himself； and yawned slightly。 It was a
sallow； strong； unamiable face。 He put me； in a surly； bored
fashion； through the usual questions as to lights and signals；
and I escaped from the room thank fullypassed！ Forty minutes！
And again I walked on air along Tower Hill； where so many good
men had lost their heads because； I suppose； they were not
resourceful enough to save them。 And in my heart of hearts I had
no objection to meeting that examiner once more when the third
and last ordeal became due in another year or so。 I even hoped I
should。 I knew the worst of him now； and forty minutes is not an
unreasonable time。 Yes； I distinctly hoped。 。 。 。
But not a bit of it。 When I presented my self to be examined for
master the examiner who received me was short； plump； with a
round； soft face in gray； fluffy whiskers； and fresh； loquacious
lips。
He commenced operations with an easy going 〃Let's see。 H'm。
Suppose you tell me all you know of charter…parties。〃 He kept it
up in that style all through； wandering off in the shape of
comment into bits out of his own life； then pulling himself up
short and returning to the business in hand。 It was very
interesting。 〃What's your idea of a jury…rudder now？〃 he
queried； suddenly； at the end of an instructive anecdote bearing
upon a point of stowage。
I warned him that I had no experience of a lost rudder at sea；
and gave him two classical examples of makeshifts out of a
text…book。 In exchange he described to me a jury…rudder he had
invented himself years before； when in command of a
three…thousand…ton steamer。 It was； I declare； the cleverest
contrivance imaginable。 〃May be of use to you some day；〃 he
concluded。 〃You will go into steam presently。 Everybody goes
into steam。〃
There he was wrong。 I never went into steamnot really。 If I
only live long enough I shall become a bizarre relic of a dead
barbarism； a sort of monstrous antiquity； the only seaman of the
dark ages who had never gone into steamnot really。
Before the examination was over he imparted to me a few
interesting details of the transport service in the time of the
Crimean War。
〃The use of wire rigging became general about that time； too；〃 he
observed。 〃I was a very young master then。 That was before you
were born。〃
〃Yes； sir。 I am of the year of 1857。〃
〃The Mutiny year；〃 he commented； as if to himself； adding in a
louder tone that his ship happened then to be in the Gulf of
Bengal； employed under a government charter。
Clearly the transport service had been the making of this
examiner； who so unexpectedly had given me an insight into his
existence； awakening in me the sense of the continuity of that
sea life into which I had stepped from outside； giving a touch of
human intimacy to the machinery of official relations。 I felt
adopted。 His experience was for me； too； as though he had been
an ancestor。
Writing my long name （it has twelve letters） with laborious care
on the slip of blue paper； he remarked：
〃You are of Polish extraction。〃
〃Born there； sir。〃
He laid down the pen and leaned back to look at me as it were for
the first time。
〃Not many of your nationality in our service； I should think。 I
never remember meeting one either before or after I left the sea。
Don't remember ever hearing of one。 An inland people； aren't
you？〃
I said yesvery much so。 We were remote from the sea not only
by situation； but also from a complete absence of indirect
association； not being a commercial nation at all； but purely
agricultural。 He made then the quaint reflection that it was 〃a
long way for me to come out to begin a sea life〃； as if sea life
were not precisely a life in which one goes a long way from home。
I told him； smiling； that no doubt I could have found a ship much
nearer my native place； but I had thought to myself that if I was
to be a seaman； then I would be a British seaman and no other。
It was a matter of deliberate choice。
He nodded slightly at that； and； as he kept on looking at me
interrogatively； I enlarged a little； confessing that I had spent
a little time on the way in the Mediterranean and in the West
Indies。 I did not want to present myself to the British Merchant
Service in an altogether green state。 It was no use telling him
that my mysterious vocation was so strong that my very wild oats
had to be sown at sea。 It was the exact truth； but he would not
have understood the somewhat exceptional psychology of my
sea…going； I fear。
〃I suppose you've never come across one of your countrymen at
sea。 Have you； now？〃
I admitted I never had。 The examiner had given himself up to the
spirit of gossiping idleness。 For myself； I was in no haste to
leave that room。 Not in the least。 The era of examinations was
over。 I would never again see that friendly man who was a
professional ancestor； a sort of grandfather in the craft。
Moreover； I had to wait till he dismissed me； and of that there
was no sign。 As he remained silent； looking at me； I added：
〃But I have heard of one； some years ago。 He seems to have been
a boy serving his time on board a Liverpool ship； if I am not
mistaken。〃
〃What was his name？〃
I told him。
〃How did you say that？〃 he asked； puckering up his eyes at the
uncouth sound。
I repeated the name very distinctly。
〃How do you spell it？〃
I told him。 He moved his head at the impracticable nature of
that name； and observed：
〃It's quite as long as your ownisn't it？〃
There was no hurry。 I had passed for master； and I had all the
rest of my life before me to make the best of it。 That seemed a
long time。 I went leisurely through a small mental calculation；
and said：
〃Not quite。 Shorter by two letters； sir。〃
〃Is it？〃 The examiner pushed the signed blue slip across the
table to me； and rose from his chair。 Somehow this seemed a very
abrupt ending of our relations； and I felt almost sorry to part
from that excellent man； who was master of a ship before the
whisper of the sea had reached my cradle。 He offered me his hand
and wished me