Behind his grim demeanour the Captain was very near to smiling at this naïveté. No Briton is wholly implacable at tea-time, and he felt a genuine curiosity about this unusual offender.
“What was your idea in coming aboard?” he said. “Do you know that I can put you in irons until we get across, and then have you sent home for punishment? I suppose it's the old story: you want to go sight-seeing on the other side?”
“No, Captain,” said Gissing. “I have come to sea to study theology.”
In spite of himself the Captain was touched by this amazing statement. He was a Scot, as we have said. He poured a cup of tea to conceal his astonishment.
“Theology!” he exclaimed. “The theology of hard work is what you will find most of aboard ship. Carry on and do your duty; keep a sharp lookout, all gear shipshape, salute the bridge when going on watch, that is the whole duty of a good officer. That's plenty theology for a seaman.” But the skipper's eye turned brightly toward his bookshelves, where he had several volumes of sermons, mostly of a Calvinist sort.
“I am not afraid of work,” said Gissing. “But
