“Now,” said Mr. Hemster, when the steward had disappeared, “you’re on your uppers, I take it.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Why, you’re down at bed-rock. Haven’t you been in America? Don’t you know the language?”
“‘Yes’ is the answer to all your questions.”
“What’s the reason? Drink? Gambling?”
Lord, how good that champagne tasted! I laughed from the pure, dry exhilaration of it.
“I wish I could say it was drink that brought me to this pass,” I answered; “for this champagne shows it would be a tempting road to ruin. I am not a gambler, either. How I came to this pass would not interest you.”
“Well, I take it that’s just an Englishman’s way of saying it’s none of my business; but such is not the fact. You want a job, and you have come to me for it. Very well; I must know something about you. Whether I can give you a job or not will depend. You have said you could captain the ship or run her engines. What makes you so confident of your skill?”
“The fact is I possessed a yacht of my own not so very long ago, and I captained her and I ran her engines on different occasions.”
“That might be a recommendation, or it might not. If, as captain, you wrecked your vessel, or if, as engineer, you blew her up, these actions would hardly be a certificate of competency.”