As the Saluria weighed anchor and steamed out of the Golden Gate, he went below to see that his valet had made satisfactory disposition of his varied belongings. His state-room was at the end of a short passage leading from the main, one, and he was displeased at finding the deep ledge under the passage window completely filled with flowers and fruit that evidently belonged to some one occupying a room in the same passage.
He rang for the cabin-boy.
"Remove that greengrocer's shop!" he commanded peremptorily. "It is abominably stuffy down here. We can't have the port-holes filled up like that, you know."
The bland face of the young Chinaman assumed an expression of mild inquiry.
"Take away!" ordered Percival, resorting to gesture.
"No can," said the boy, calmly. "All same b'long one missy. Missy b'long cap'n."
Percival turned impatiently to his valet, who was coming through the passage.
"Judson, get those things out of the window, and keep them out. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir. But where shall I put them, sir?"
"On the floor—in the sea—wherever you like," said Percival, as he slipped his arms into the top-coat that was being respectfully held for him.