“We must take our chance.  As a matter of experience, we find that our vessels do get about very well.  The temperatures of the land on each side of the sea vary so much, that we are never long without a breeze.”

“Still, you depend on chance.  Is that not so?  Now I never like doing things by halves.  Tell me frankly, Mr. Fullerton, what would you do if you took off a smallpox case, and got becalmed on the run home?”

Fullerton laughed.  “You are a remarkably good devil’s advocate, Mr. Cassall, but if I had ever conjured up obstacles in my own mind, there would have been no mission—­would there, Blair?  And I venture to think that the total amount of human happiness would have been less by a very appreciable quantity.”  Besides, it is absolutely against rules to take infectious cases on board the mission vessels.  “Cassall isn’t putting obstacles in your way,” interposed Sir James.  “I know what he’s driving at, but strangers are apt to mistake him.  He means to draw out of you by cross-examination the fact that quick transport is absolutely necessary for your hospital scheme.  Take an instance.  Miss Dearsley tells me the men stay out eight weeks, and then run home.  Now suppose your cruiser meets one of the home-going vessels, and the captain of this vessel says, ’There’s a dying man fifty miles N.W. (or S.W., or whatever it is) from here.  You must go soon, or he won’t be saved.  What are you going to do if you have a foul wind or a calm?”

“But that dying man would probably be in a fleet, and what I wish to see is not a single cruising hospital, but that all our mission vessels in future should be of that type, i.e., one with every fleet.”

Cassall broke in, “Yes, yes, by all means; but, I say, could you not try steam as well?  Why not go in at once for a steamer as an experiment, and then you can whisk round like a flash, and time your visits from week to week.”

Blair rose in his seat wearing a comic expression of despair and terror.

“Why, we’re driven silly now by people who offer us ships, without saying anything about ways and means for keeping the ships up.  My dear Cassall, you do not know what a devourer of money a vessel is.  Every hour at sea means wear and tear somewhere, and if we are to make our ships quite safe we must be constantly renewing.  It’s the maintenance funds that puzzle us.  If you give us a ship without a fund for renewals of gear, wages, and so on, it is exactly as though you graciously made a City clerk a present of a couple of Irish hunters, and requested him not to sell them.  The vessel Fullerton has in his mind will need an outlay of L1,200 a year to keep her up.  Suppose we invest the necessary capital in a good, sound stock, we shall get about 4 per cent for money, so that we require L30,000 for a sailing ship alone.  As to the steamer, whew-w-w!”