“Ah! I regret to say that the family records have been sadly neglected—but I have the skin disease of which you spoke. It is hereditary.”
I moved a little further off.
He continued: “Yes, I have the skin disease. It is a proof of what I tell you. Would you like to see it?”
“N—no thanks; I’m afraid I haven’t time just now.”
“It is a sad infliction, but I bear it. Yes, I bear it because it is the Lord’s will. The only thing that gives me any relief is brandy—Have you any about you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Rum, perhaps?”
“No, nothing of that kind.”
“Dear, dear—Pardon this spasm, it will be over in a minute. Perhaps the sailors have some. Will you lend me a shilling, and I will go and inquire?”
His spasms must have come on very badly after he left, for in about half-an-hour’s time I saw him ardently hugging a stanchion, and apparently trying to tie a true lover’s knot with his legs. I inquired who he was, and learned that he was a gentleman at large. I was much surprised; I should certainly have taken him to be a native missionary from his manner.