The heavy-browed man leaned forward a little deliberately towards his _vis-a-vis_. His was not an attractive personality. His features were large and of bulldog type. His forehead was low, and his eyes, which gave one the impression of being clear and penetrating, were concealed by heavy spectacles. His hands only, which were well-shaped and cared for, might have indicated his profession. "My name," he said, "is Gant--Doctor James H. Gant. You are not, I presume, a medical man yourself?" Crawshay shook his head. "A most admirable profession," he declared, "but one which I should never have the nerve to follow." "You do not, therefore, appreciate the fact," Doctor Gant continued, "that a medical man, especially one connected with a hospital of such high standing as St. Agnes's, does not discuss his patient's ailments with strangers." "No offence, Doctor--no offence," Crawshay protested across the table. "Mine is just the natural interest in a fellow sufferer of a man who has known most of the ailments to which we weak humans are subject." "I suppose, as we have the pleasure of your company this evening," the captain intervened, "Miss Beverley will be an absentee?" "Miss Beverley at the present moment is taking my place," the doctor replied. "She insisted upon it. Personally, I am used to eating at all times and in all manner of places." There was a brief silence, during which Crawshay discussed the subject of inoculation for colds in the head with his neighbour on the other side, and the doctor showed a very formidable capacity for making up for any meals which he might have missed by too rigid an attention to his patient. The captain presently addressed him again. "Have you met our ship's doctor yet?" he enquired. "I have had that honour," Doctor Gant acknowledged. "He was good enough to call upon me yesterday and offer his assistance should I require it." "A very clever fellow, I believe," the captain observed. "He impressed me some," the other confessed. "If any further complications should arise, it will be a relief for me to consult him." The subject of the sick man dropped. Crawshay walked out of the saloon with the captain and left him at the bottom of the stairs. "I'll take the liberty of paying you a short call presently, Captain, if I may," he said. "I just want to fetch my wraps. And by-the-by, did I tell you that I have been fortunate enough to find a pair of rubbers that just fit me, at the barber's? One of the greatest blessings on board ship, Captain, believe me, is the barber's shop. It's like a bijou Harrod's or Whiteley's--anything you want, from an elephant to a needle, you know. In about ten minutes, Captain, if I shan't be disturbing you." The captain found the purser on deck and took him into his cabin. "I saw you speaking to Doctor Gant in the gangway," the former observed. "I wonder what he really thinks about his patient?"