"Why, you don't mean to say that you have seen the famous yacht?" I asked, in amazement.
"Seen her, steered her, laughed at her, feared her, like Campion himself."
"Why, I thought Campion never allowed any one but himself and his daughter to cross her gunwale?"
"Well, all that I tell you is, I have been out several evenings with the Captain; and if you want to examine me in jibs, and mainsails, and top-gallants, now is your time."
Look here! This curate of mine is becoming quite humorous, and picking up all our Celtic ways. I don't at all like it, because I would much rather he would keep up all his graceful dignity. But there again—the eternal environments. How far will he go?
"Don't mind your lessons in navigation now," I said, "but come to the point. How—did—you—catch—Campion?"
"Well, 't is a long story, but I shall try to abridge it. I knew there was but one way to this man's heart, and I was determined to try it. Has not some one said, 'All things to all men?' Very well. Talk to a farmer about his crops, to a huntsman about his horses, to a fisherman about his nets, you have him in the palm of your hands. It is a kind of Christian diplomacy; but I would much rather it were not necessary."
He was silent, leaning his head on his hands.
"Never mind," I said, "the question of honor. Human nature is a very crooked thing, and you can't run a level road over a hill."
"I never like even the shadow of deception," he said; "I hate concealment; and yet I should not like Campion to know that I practised even so innocent a stratagem."