Page:The Death-Doctor.djvu/132

120 perhaps, the most delightful point of all—no daily worries, nothing to answer, no bills to make you shudder and rush to the tantalus. If you are also a keen chess and card player, then the life, for a few months, is ideal.

The skipper of the Dorsetshire was a most able man, but an amusing study. He was obsessed with the idea that he was a lady-killer of the most accomplished type, and I believe he really considered himself handsome, but he held a "lone hand" in that belief. I mention this because, later on, this curious, almost ludicrous, fancy of his was of great value to me—and another.

As the voyage progressed and we got into warmer climes, our passenger-list increased, and before Shanghai, outward bound, the first-class saloon was nearly full.

The ship's doctor was an Irishman named Currie; tall and thin, with a delightful brogue, a maximum of assurance and a minimum of professional ability. What small amount of medical knowledge he originally possessed had been gradually dissipated into thin sea-air or dissolved in whisky-and-soda, and it was with great joy that he informed me at this latter port that another