“Well, my lad, you’re young for a pilot; but you appear to know your business well, and you have brought this ship up in good style. Here are your certificates,” said he, as he filled in my name.
I had my spy-glass in my hand, and, to take up the certificates and fold them to fit them into my tin case, I laid my glass down on the table close to him. Sir James looked at it as if surprised, took it up in his hand, turned it round, and appeared quite taken aback. He then looked at the brass rim where the name had been erased, and perceived where it had been filed away.
“Mr Saunders,” said he at last, “if not taking a liberty, may I ask where you procured this spy-glass?”
“Yes, Sir James, it was given me by a person who has been very kind to me ever since I was a boy.”
“Mr Saunders, I beg your pardon—I do not ask this question out of mere curiosity—I have seen this glass before; it once belonged to a very dear friend of mine. Can you give me any further information? You said it was given you by—”
“A very amiable woman, Sir James.”
“Did she ever tell you how it came into her hands?”
“She never did, sir.”
“Mr Saunders, oblige me by sitting down; and if you can give me any information on this point, you will confer on me a very great favour. Can you tell me what sort of a person this lady is—where she lives—and what countrywoman she is?”
“Yes, Sir James; I will first state that she is Irish, and that she lives at present at Greenwich.” I then described her person.