"I don't know," he answered. "They took him to the hospital, and he never came aboard again. That is all I know."
"I suppose your pay is good?" I suggested. To confess the truth, I felt myself at a disadvantage with him down there. The flaring lights and deep shadows, the cranks and pistons whirling at our elbows, the clank and din, and the valves that hissed at unexpected moments, were matters of every hour to him; they imbued me with a desire to propitiate. As my after-dinner easiness abated, I regretted that it had induced me to come down.
He laughed harshly. "Pretty fair," he said, "with my opportunities. Do you see that jacket?"
"Yes."
"That is my shore-going jacket," with a wink. "Here, look at it!"
I complied. It appeared at first sight to be an ordinary sailor's pea-coat; but, looking more closely, I found that inside were dozens of tiny pockets. At the mouth of each pocket a small hook was fixed to the lining.
"They are for watches," he explained, when he saw that I did not comprehend. "I get five francs over the price for every one I carry ashore to a friend of mine--duty free, you understand."
I nodded to show that I did understand. "And which is your port for that?" I asked, desiring to say something as I turned to ascend.
He touched me on the shoulder, and I found his face close to mine. His eyes glittered in the light of the lamp that hung by the steam-gauge; they had the same expression that had perplexed me before dinner. "At Carthagena!" he whispered, bringing his face still closer to mine. "At Carthagena! Wait a minute, mate, I have told you something," he went on. "I am not too particular, and, what is more, I am not afraid! Ain't you going to tell me something?"
"I have nothing to tell you!" I answered, staring at him.