habit as though he were leaning into a stiff gale. His mouth
always held a pipe, which he smoked in short, brisk whiffs, as
though expecting to be interrupted at any moment by an iceberg.

The steward brought in the tea-tray, and Captain Scottie settled
into his large armchair to enjoy it. His eye glanced
automatically at the barometer.

"A little wind to-night," he said, his nose wrinkling
unconsciously as the cover was lifted from the dish of hot
anchovy toast.

"Yes, sir," said the steward, but lingered, apparently anxious to
speak further.

"Well, Shepherd?"

"Beg pardon, sir, but the Chief Steward wanted me to say they've
found someone stowed away in the linen locker, sir. Queer kind of
fellow, sir, talks a bit like a padre. 'E must've come aboard by
the engine-room gangway, sir, and climbed into that locker near
the barber shop."

The problem of stowaways is familiar enough to shipmasters. "Send
him up to me," said the Captain.

A few minutes later Gissing appeared, escorted by a burly
quartermaster. Even the experienced Captain admitted to himself
that this was something new in the category of stowaways. Never
before had he seen one in a braided cutaway coat and wedding