Strongly, yet gracefully built, upright as the royal pole, active in all his movements, one would have taken him to be scarce arrived at middle-age, but for the fact that his thick, closely-cropped hair shone a dead white under the lamplight. His features were regular and good, albeit they wore, in general, a rather serious expression. Altogether, it was a strong, pleasant face, full of energy, confidence, and the power to command.
As he rested one hand on the corner of the instrument, it might be noticed that, from wrist to finger tips, it was covered by the white cicatrices of long-healed scars. In spite, however, of his grey hair and disfigured hands, Captain Marion, of the Corona, [232] ]Australian liner, was called by many people a handsome man.
‘Sing me my favourite, please,’ asked the Captain presently.
‘On condition,’ was the reply, ‘that you will tell us a story in return.’
‘It’s a bargain,’ said the Captain. ‘I’ll relate the legend of Vanderdecken, the Flying Dutchman. Thoroughly appropriate it will be, too, as we are just entering his domains.’
‘We don’t want to hear about the Flying Dutchman,’ answered the girl promptly.
‘Well, then,’ continued the Captain, ‘what do you say if I tell you how I was cast away in ’69, on the coast of—’
‘No, no, Captain Marion,’ interrupted she, smiling shyly up at him, ‘we don’t want that either.’
‘Ah, I see!’ exclaimed the Captain, after a pause, ‘a conspiracy! Well,’ he went on, after a still longer hesitation, ‘I don’t care much about it. The telling, I mean, of how I got this’ (touching his hair) ‘and these’ (spreading out his hands), ‘for, of course, that is what you wish to hear. It reminds me of a time I would rather not recall.
‘No, Miss Hillier’—for the girl had risen in dismay and almost tears at her thoughtlessness, and was attempting to apologise incoherently enough—‘it doesn’t matter a bit. Besides, I somehow feel in the vein for story-telling this evening; and as well that as anything else. With some passengers, I find that I [233] ]have to put a stopper on their curiosity rather abruptly. But’ (with a grave smile and a bow to the group) ‘it being a rare thing, indeed, to meet so well-assorted and pleasant a party as we are this trip, I’ll spin you the yarn, such as it is. And now, Miss Hillier, my song.’