The artist, like myself, was a marine painter, each of us having followed the sea when young, and in answering to the higher call that comes at least once in every man's life, had taken to art with the sea for a specialty. We both painted ships and shipwrecks, storms and sailors, but the difference between us in age, experience, and ability was so great that there was never anything but sincere friendship between us. I welcomed his advice and criticism, and he welcomed my society, because, as he put it, my youth and enthusiasm revived his failing energies. His studio adjoined mine, and when the afternoon light had waned, I visited him to smoke, talk, and listen to his yarns, for he had been longer at sea than I had, and he had more to tell. Also, besides being a master of his art, he was a deep student of science, keeping himself well informed on each new invention and discovery; and his comments on such subjects were practical, logical, and conclusive. As, for instance, in discussing that ninety-and-nine days' wonder, the wreck of the _Titanic_, and the proposed measures to prevent a repetition of such a terrible disaster, he had laughed at the futile idea of more lifeboats. "All the lifeboats in the world," he said, "will not avail of themselves if they must be lowered from a boat deck seventy feet high, with the steamer rolling in a heavy sea. They would all smash against the side before half-way down. The _Titanic_ had a smooth sea, remember." "Long davits," I suggested, "to keep them well outboard." "Long davits--long enough to answer the purpose--would foul one another." "Short davits, then, and travelers up and down the side." "Impracticable, even if a steamship company would be willing to disfigure their ships so much. In time of panic, the boats could not be fitted into the travelers." "But don't you think," I asked, "that more and stronger compartments would solve the difficulty?" "They would have to be as strong as the side of the ship," he answered, "and the necessary angle irons and bracings would interfere with cargo space and interior accommodations." "Then a detachable upper deck," I said, "that would stay in place by gravity, but float if the hull sank." "It would break into pieces in a seaway. It would need to be an upper section of two decks with an air space. Well, how about hatches, stairways, and masts leading to the lower body? The two ends of the ship, which are clear of these fixtures, would not hold all hands, and if you do away with hatches, making this upper section water-tight, how about the hundreds of people--engineers, firemen, and steerage passengers--imprisoned in the hull?" "Right," I answered. "It seems, then, that the only safety from ice is in the Southern Lane route, and slow speed in a fog." "Yes, unless this English scientist's invention proves practicable. Have you read of it?" I had not, and said so.