"Send a man along with a bucket of soft soap and water," said Mr. Spokesly hastily. "I'll go round with you later." "Where's that other mate?" asked the bosun, rather mystified. "Over the side," said Mr. Spokesly, pointing. "You seen the captinne yet?" the bosun pursued. "Plenty, plenty. Send a man along." Mr. Spokesly turned and to his intense astonishment found Captain Rannie in the saloon. "Why, where were you all the time?" he asked. "In my cabin," said Captain Rannie, staring at the floor nervously. "I must say you make noise enough when you join a ship." "Well, Captain, I'll argue all you want later. Where's the medicine chest?" "In my cabin." "Then you'll have to give me the run of it to stop this bleeding. Got any friars' balsam?" "I--I--I'll see. I'll see." Captain Rannie objected to be approached directly. He was already beginning to wonder, after listening to the very emphatic remarks of his new chief officer through the bulkhead of his cabin, if he had not made a mistake in demanding a change. Very unsettling, a change. He went downstairs again and unlocked his door. It had three locks, Mr. Spokesly observed in some surprise. After opening the door, Captain Rannie stepped through and quickly drew a heavy blue curtain across. "I'll bring it out to you," he said from within. Mr. Spokesly dragged the curtain back and stepped in himself. He was indignant at this extraordinary treatment. He was astounded, however, to see Captain Rannie shrink away towards the settee, holding up his arms. "Don't you dare to touch me!" he shrieked in a very low key. "Don't you...." Mr. Spokesly suddenly caught sight of himself in the glass across the room. He was not a very reassuring spectacle. His face was dirty and blood-smeared, and his collar was torn away from his throat. He closed the door. "Captain," he said, "we'd better have an understanding right at the start. I'm going to be mate o' this ship for six months." "You think you are," whispered the captain, slowly approaching a cabinet on the wall. "You only think you are." "Well, I been paid for it anyway," said Mr. Spokesly, examining his wounded hand. "So we'll take it for granted. Now if you back me up, I'll back you up. Why didn't you come out and help me when that stiff started to make trouble?" Captain Rannie absolutely ignored this question. He was in a corner, and like some animals in similar plight, he might almost be said to have feigned death. He stood stock still looking into his medicine chest, his back to Mr. Spokesly, his high shoulders raised higher. He was in a corner, for he had been betrayed already into the demonstration of nervous fear. It was the knowledge of his horror of the slightest physical contact with others that Mr. Spiteri had been unable to resist.