"Oh, I did nothing," I answered. "It was the other people who did everything--the little that was done. It's I who have to thank you, for taking that person away. He and the other, who came just before, were so rude."
"They didn't mean to be rude," he said. "They wanted you to tell them something which they could put into their papers, and they live by doing that kind of thing. I did the best I could with them, but I wish I could have saved you from being annoyed in the beginning. I hesitated at first, for fear you might misunderstand, and think me as bad as they were; but I wish I hadn't now."
"After what I saw you do, at sea, I couldn't possibly have misunderstood," I said.
"Thank you for saying that," he returned, "though for what I did then, I don't deserve any praise. It was done on the impulse; and I'm used to salt water. As a child, I lived close to it for a time, in California, and swimming came almost as natural as walking. But I'm not here to talk about myself. It was only to tell you how grateful I was, and am, and shall continue to be, for your kindness on the ship. I couldn't go without speaking of this; and there's something now I'd like to ask. You won't be offended?"
"If it's something you want to tell me, I know it isn't the sort of thing which could offend," I said; but I didn't say it as calmly as it looks when written. I stammered a little, and got the words tangled up; and I felt my face growing hotter than ever.
"I thank you again. It's only this. If, while you're over on this side the water, there's ever any way in which a man--a man who'd be as respectful as your footman, and loyal as your friend--could possibly serve you--I wish you would let me be that man. I know it seems now as if such a thing couldn't happen; but nothing's quite impossible in this queer world, and--and anyhow I shall always be ready. You could trust me——"
"I know that!" I couldn't resist breaking in.
"I'm--employed for the present at a club in New York. If you'd send word to Jim Brett, at the Manhattan Club, there's nothing under the sun that Jim Brett wouldn't do for you, from finding a lost dog, to taking a message across the world."
"First I must catch my dog before I can lose him," I answered, laughing. "But if I do, or--or there's anything else, I shan't forget."
"That's a true promise, then; and I have to thank you for the third time. Now, I'm not going to trouble you any longer. Good-bye."