I smiled. "I am sorry," I said, "that I know nothing of steamers and the running of them, or I should be tempted to try for one of the vacancies. I do not suppose I could qualify for anything; a coal-passer, or even a third-class quartermaster perhaps, no better. And I should not like to have fingers of scorn pointed at me as being the admiral's pet or something of the kind. It would smack of politics and influence."
Old Goodwin laughed. "It is not an improper use of influence to point out a man's virtues," he answered, "but quite proper. The authorities do not know you, but I do, and I consider you well qualified. The knowledge of your duties you could pick up soon enough. You could pass the examination for a lieutenant's commission in two weeks. I would not be afraid to promise it. You can navigate, Adam."
I nodded. "I wish it could be done. But you forget that I am forty-three. They don't want men of forty-three."
"It might be done," he said. "Fergus is forty-four, but many years a master. It might be done, but if you don't want—"
I interrupted him. "You forget Eve. She is a pacifist—as bad as Cecily."
He smiled. "Eve is not so much a pacifist—nor Cecily. I would not worry about Eve."
That was news to me—if he was right. And I did want to do something, if only to restore my self-respect, that was well-nigh gone from me. It was but to find that something that I could do better than another, if such there was.
"I will think about it," I said.
"Do," he returned, "and so will I. It may be that this vessel is not the place for you. I should like it better if there was something that would keep you here or hereabouts—and so would Eve. It should be something that no one else can do."
I laughed and said nothing. What was there for me to say? But my laugh had no merriment in it. It was simple: I had but to find that which I could do and no one else; but stay—it must be useful in the present case. And I laughed again savagely, and I looked up, and there was the Rattlesnake anchored beside the Arcadia.