The Captain's linen he had laid out for my use on his damask-covered cot was composed of the very finest silk. Even the socks were silk. I was positively ashamed to draw my stained and work-worn outer garments over them; and I thought, with a sigh, of my two decent suits of tweed lying, like the Dutchman's anchor, far away--in a Cairo lodging-house, to be precise. I shaved with the Captain's razor and wondered why I did not in the least mind resting indebted to his courtesy. The removal of my beard laid bare the weal the Captain's whip had raised. Perhaps that was the reason. He came in just as I had finished and he saw the weal on instant. "I wish to the Lord you'd just blacken one of my eyes," he said remorsefully. "The sight of that makes me feel an out-and-out cad. Not ten minutes before it happened Miss Ottley had been telling me the angel of goodness you had been to her." I sat down on the edge of the cot and grinned. "It gives me quite a distinguished appearance," I replied, "and, say, didn't it give me back my temper nicely, too." "Little wonder you were wild," said he. "But why didn't you break me up while you were about it? You could have, easily enough. Lord! how big and strong you are." "And ugly," I supplemented. He flushed all over his face. "You make me feel a silly girl-man by comparison," he cried. "A man ought to be ugly and strong-looking like you. I'd give half my fortune to possess that jaw." "What a boy it is!" I said delightedly, for I was proud of my jaw, and I love flattery. "I'm having a cot made now; it will be put over there for you. You'll share my diggings, won't you? I want us to be friends," beamed the Captain. There was something so ingenuous and charming in his frankness that I assented at once. "It's funny," he said afterwards. "But I detested you at first. Have a cigar. This box of Cabanas is for you. They're prime. I've more in my kit when they are finished. Lie down and rest while you smoke one, won't you? Lunch won't be ready for an hour yet, and you must be fagged." I wasn't a bit, but I lay back and puffed a mouthful of delicious smoke with a long-drawn sigh of luxury. "You needn't talk. Miss Ottley says you don't like talking," said the Captain. He lit a cigar and sat down on his kit box. "I'm a real gabbler, though," he confessed. "Do you mind?" "No, fire away, sonny!"