He went off and Kit laughed. He owned that his conventional notion of the grim, parsimonious Scot was strangely inaccurate. The Scots he knew in the Canaries were marked by freakish humour and rash generosity. They were kind with the kindness of a benevolent Puck. In fact, all the correilleros were to some extent like that, a reckless, irresponsible lot, but Kit had known men with virtues shabbier than the sailors' faults.
A week afterwards, he got up one evening from his revolving chair in the Mossamedes' saloon. She was going to sea at daybreak, and Don Erminio had brought his friends on board. All the chairs were occupied, and cigarette smoke drifted about the green trailers of a sweet-potato that grew across the beams. The empty bottles were numerous, and at the end of the table Don Erminio made a speech. Kit heard something about animals and anarchists, and noted that the wine dripped from the glass in the captain's hand. At the other end of the table Macallister sang.
Kit had had enough. He thought he had done all politeness required, and the noisy revels jarred. It was a relief to go on deck and breathe the cool night breeze. Mossamedes was a larger boat than the correillo. Riding near the harbour mouth, her masts and funnel swung languidly, and her lights threw trembling reflections on the black water. A long deckhouse ran aft from the captain's room and pilot house at the bridge, and a row of stanchions carried its top level with the rail. Luminous smoke rolled from the funnel; one heard the clank of shovels and hiss of steam. In the background were glimmering surf, lights that twinkled in clusters against dark rocks, and then a gap where the Atlantic rolled back to Africa.
When he ordered his boat Kit's heart beat. His last duty before the vessel sailed was to get some documents from the commandancia, and then he was going to Mrs. Austin's. Mrs. Austin was not at home, but Olivia received him on the veranda.
"Harry and Jacinta will not be very long," she said.
"I'm sorry," said Kit. "I can't stop, but I wanted to say good-bye, and thank your sister."
"Then you waited for some time. Didn't you know Jacinta was going to the Metropole?"
"Not altogether," Kit replied with some awkwardness. "I think I knew she might go, but the captain was giving a party and I couldn't get off."
Olivia smiled. She knew her charm, and Kit was rather obvious.
"When his guests started I was at the mole and I expect the port-guards will get some amusement when they come back," she said. "But why do you want to thank Jacinta?"