I don't know what it is, drink or
temper, or want of judgment, but something there must be."
"I assure you there is nothing, but I find myself stranded, and so have
to turn to the old business again."
"Oh, that's it," said the manager, with suspicion in his eye. "How long
were you in your last billet?"
"Fifty-one years."
"What!"
"Yes, sir, one-and-fifty years."
"In the same employ?"
"Yes."
"Why, you must have begun as a child."
"I was twelve when I joined."
"It must be a strangely managed business," said the manager, "which
allows men to leave it who have served for fifty years, and who are
still as good as ever. Who did you serve?"
"The Queen. Heaven bless her!"
"Oh, you were in the Royal Navy. What rating did you hold?"
"I am Admiral of the Fleet."
The manager started, and sprang down from his high stool.
"My name is Admiral Hay Denver. There is my card. And here are the
records of my service. I don't, you understand, want to push another
man from his billet; but if you should chance to have a berth open, I
should be very glad of it. I know the navigation from the Cod Banks
right up to Montreal a great deal better than I know the streets of
London.
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