“Of course; and you have called your steamer the Hvalross.”
“Yes; I have used your Norse term for the sea-horse.”
“The name will make our lads eager to go.”
“Then you can get me four to go with us?”
“You shall have the four finest men who have not already started, sir.”
“Come, that sounds better,” said the little, keen-looking man who had not yet spoken. “May I shake hands with you, Captain Hendal?”
“Yes, sir; I like shaking hands with Englishmen,” said the big Norwegian, holding out his great palm, the back of which was strangely suggestive of a polar bear’s paw; and he laughed as he looked down at the little white hand laid in it, and then gave it a grip which changed its colour. “But you’re not a sailor.”
“I? No, a medical man.”
“Name?”
“Handscombe,” said the doctor, smiling.