He shook his head ruefully, and Hardy glanced at a tie which would have paled the glories of a rainbow.  For some time they walked along in silence.

“I’m going to pay my respects to Cap’n Nugent this afternoon,” said Mr. Wilks, suddenly.

“Ah,” said the other.

“I knew what it ’ud be with them two on the same ship,” continued Mr. Wilks.  “I didn’t say nothing when you was talking to Miss Kate, but I knew well enough.”

“Ah,” said Hardy again.  There was no mistaking the significance of the steward’s remarks, and he found them somewhat galling.  It was all very well to make use of his humble friend, but he had no desire to discuss his matrimonial projects with him.

“It’s a great pity,” pursued the unconscious Mr. Wilks, “just as everything seemed to be going on smoothly; but while there’s life there’s ’ope.”

“That’s a smart barge over there,” said Hardy, pointing it out.

Mr. Wilks nodded.  “I shall keep my eyes open this afternoon,” he said reassuringly.  “And if I get a chance of putting in a word it’ll be put in.  Twenty-nine years I sailed with the cap’n, and if there’s anybody knows his weak spots it’s me.”

He stopped as they reached the town and said “good-bye.”  He pressed the young man’s hand sympathetically, and a wink of intense artfulness gave point to his last remark.

“There’s always Sam Wilks’s cottage,” he said, in a husky whisper; “and if two of ’is friends should ’appen to meet there, who’d be the wiser?”

He gazed benevolently after the young man’s retreating figure and continued his stroll, his own troubles partly forgotten in the desire to assist his friends.  It would be a notable feat for the humble steward to be the means of bringing the young people together and thereby bringing to an end the feud of a dozen years.  He pictured himself eventually as the trusted friend and adviser of both families, and in one daring flight of fancy saw himself hobnobbing with the two captains over pipes and whisky.

Neatly dressed and carrying a small offering of wallflowers, he set out that afternoon to call on his old master, giving, as he walked, the last touches to a little speech of welcome which he had prepared during dinner.  It was a happy effort, albeit a trifle laboured, but Captain Nugent’s speech, the inspiration of the moment, gave it no chance.

He started the moment the bowing Mr. Wilks entered the room, his voice rising gradually from low, bitter tones to a hurricane note which Bella. could hear in the kitchen without even leaving her chair.  Mr. Wilks stood dazed and speechless before him, holding the wallflowers in one hand and his cap in the other.  In this attitude he listened to a description of his character drawn with the loving skill of an artist whose whole heart was in his work, and who seemed never tired of filling in details.

“If you ever have the hardihood to come to my house again,” he concluded, “I’ll break every bone in your misshapen body.  Get!”