This was the part of the world, he said, his eyes first took
notice of, on the finest day of his life. He had emerged from the main
entrance of St. Katherine's Dock House a full-fledged second mate after
the hottest time of his life with Captain R-, the most dreaded of the
three seamanship Examiners who at the time were responsible for the
merchant service officers qualifying in the Port of London.
"We all who were preparing to pass," he said, "used to shake in our shoes
at the idea of going before him. He kept me for an hour and a half in
the torture chamber and behaved as though he hated me. He kept his eyes
shaded with one of his hands. Suddenly he let it drop saying, "You will
do!" Before I realised what he meant he was pushing the blue slip across
the table. I jumped up as if my chair had caught fire.
"Thank you, sir," says I, grabbing the paper.
"Good morning, good luck to you," he growls at me.
"The old doorkeeper fussed out of the cloak-room with my hat. They
always do. But he looked very hard at me before he ventured to ask in a
sort of timid whisper: "Got through all right, sir?" For all answer I
dropped a half-crown into his soft broad palm.
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