Captain Bontnor never thought Eve was a great authoress. In his simple way this man had a vast deal of discrimination, as simple people often have. It is the oversubtle man who makes the most egregious mistakes, because most of us have not time to be subtle. He never suspected Eve of being a great authoress, and he never attributed to her any desire to attain that doubtful pinnacle of fame. But he saw very plainly the immense advantage to be gathered in this time from her talent. In his simplicity he hoped that something would turn up for him to do, in a world which has no pity nor charity for that which is old, effete, and out of fashion.
“Yes,” he said, after deep thought, “we must do what he tells us. There’s no harm in that.”
Eve laughed.
“I thought,” she said, “that we understood pride in Spain and Mallorca; but I have never met such a proud caballero as you.”
She was standing behind him where he stood, looking grimly out of the window, her two hands resting on his broad shoulders.
“I suppose,” she went on, “that you have once or twice humbled your pride so much as to accept a ship when it was offered you. You said that there are plenty who would give you a command now. John Craik is giving me a ship, that is all.”
The captain nodded.
“Yes,” he said, “that’s it, that’s it. You’ve got your first ship.”
CHAPTER II. A COMPACT.
Prends moy tel que je suy.