"It would be pretty tough," Mr. Balgarnie admitted. "But you said there was another reason you wanted him to marry Laura."
"Well, I do. I like that girl. I knew her when I first came down the Coast as mate. I remember the first time I saw her as if it was yesterday. I was standing up against the tally desk beside number three hatch, ticking off the cargo list as they hove stuff up and dropped it in the surf boats. It was on the old _Fernando Po_, that beat her bottom out afterwards when Williams tried to drive her over Monk bar at half ebb. There was a case marked with double-diamond that was O'Neill and Craven's consigning all right, but with no name of factory. I knew old Swizzle-Stick Smith and Malla-Nulla well enough already, and I didn't know Slade, and so naturally I thought Smith should have it, and ordered the case back again into the hold. But just then up came a little nipper of about eight or ten years old, as self-possessed as you like, and says, 'Are you Mr. Image?' 'That's me,' says I. 'What's the message?' 'Oh, no message,' says she, 'only Daddy says that if I can find you and stand by your heels and not bother I may stay aboard, but if not I'm to go ashore by the next boat and get on with my lessons.' Well, it didn't take much seeing through what was meant there."
"No, sir," said Mr. Balgarnie heartily. "By all accounts old Cappie Williams was the hardest case they ever knew even on the West Coast, and that's saying a lot. I only knew him for a year, and I wasn't particular in those days, but he was more than even I could stand."
"He was the limit. Well, me lad, that was the first time I saw Laura, and she stood beside me half the day at the tally desk there, and thanked me for the entertainment when Slade sent off a boy to take her ashore. She gave me a kiss when she turned to go down the side--well, you see, I've--I've never quite forgotten that kiss, Balgarnie, me lad."
"I know, skipper," said Mr. Balgarnie rather thickly. "A kid once kissed me, of her own blessed accord, too, like that. It sort of burnt in. I beg your pardon, sir, for interrupting."
"Not at all, me lad. Here you, steward. Hi, Brass-Pan."
"We fit for two cocktail, plenty-long ones. Well, as I was saying, Balgarnie, me lad, I've always had a bit of soft place for Laura, though I suppose she rightly is snuff and butter, by Crumbs you'd never guess it from her looks unless you went over her with a lens, and I'd just feel all broken up if she was to go the way that lot usually do go. So if this young Carter, who seems a nice clean-run sort of lad, will marry her with a ring, I'm going to weigh in with at least a best silver-plate teapot for a wedding present."