"There's some of that port left over below," he said, and he led the way down.
He filled two glasses to the brim, handing me one.
"To your health—and that of Miss Aline," I said stiffly, feeling that there was something to say, or do.
"No," said Slade slowly, thoughtfully, "to the best man."
"Sure—to me, the best man at the wedding?" I said, in feigned surprise.
"Oh, no," corrected the mate. "Not at all—although you are not so bad, old chap." He raised his eyes and looked straight into mine. "We drink to the best man in the ship—who was in the ship—to Komuri."
And we drained our glasses.