Richard Egerton looked at the old sailor’s rugged face, down which time or trouble had made many a furrow, and his heart went out to this fellow-creature, who had sorrowed perhaps as much as he was doing himself, and had no outward alleviation for the world’s injustice.
‘Did you ever watch two people play a game of chess, Williams?’ he asked, presently.
‘Do you mean them little figures as they move about on a black-and-white board, same as we use for draughts, sir?’
‘I do.’
‘Oh yes! I’ve watched the passengers playing that game many a time.’
‘Didn’t it puzzle you at first to understand why the players should sometimes allow their men to be taken from them, or even place them in positions of danger where they could not possibly escape being captured?’
‘Yes, sir!’ cried old Williams, brightening up with intelligence. ‘I remember there was one gentleman that crossed with us last year to Trinidad, and he used to boast that there was no one on board could beat him at that game. And no more there was, and his play was always to let the other sweep near half his men off the board afore he’d begin in arnest at all. Lord! I’ve stood and watched ’em when I was off duty, many and many a time, and been as near as possible a-crying out to him to take care; but he had got the game, sir, at his fingers’ end, and always came off victor, whoever sat down with him.’
‘Just so. That gentleman’s plan must have seemed inexplicable to anyone who was ignorant of the rules of chess, but those who knew them and watched them to the end, would have understood that he allowed his knights and pawns to be taken only, that he might preserve his queen and his castle, and win the game for them all. Do you follow me?’
‘I think I can, sir, though I don’t know where the dickens you’re a leading me to.’