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Updated: August 19, 2024
I dived my hand into my breech-pocket for the forgotten key. It was small, and of a curious, intricate pattern. Almost before my fingers closed upon it my mind was made up. Stimcoe's that is, if I decided to return to Stimcoe's might wait. I might yet decide to break ship as Captain Danny would have put it and make a push for home; but that decision, too, must wait.
"In ma breech-pocket you'll find a Noo Testament and the Articles o War all my readin these forty year; and all a sailor needs. Take em and study em. It'll pay you. Happen they run a bit athwart here and there; but that makes no odds, if you keep your head. There's always light enough to steer by if your heart's right. 'Christ's my compass, your father'd say. 'He don't deviate."
But, the hour being over-early for calling, I had a mind, before rousing you out of bed, to walk down the lane and have a look over your garden gate. Nay," he corrected himself, "I do not put it quite honestly, even yet. I came in search of something." "I can save you the trouble, perhaps," said I, and, diving a hand into my breech-pocket, I pulled out the gold-rimmed eyeglasses.
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