“I’ve told you, my dear,” put in Mr Tregaskis patiently, “that the mark was done by a Challenge Cup.  The fellow was quite honest about it.”

“A more thoughtful man,” the lady insisted, “would have consulted his wife—­would have brought the thing home, maybe, for a trial, to have her opinion on it.  The others wouldn’t have raised any objection, I’m sure.  And,” she concluded with another sigh, “he knows that I fairly dote on music!”

“If that’s so, ma’am,” began Captain Cai, and hesitated, overtaken by sudden caution, “I might let you have the loan of it, some time.”

“You got out o’ that very well,” said Tobias, as they moved on.  “I like this place—­” He paused, to scan a bill hoarding.  “I likes it the more the further I gets.  But the women hereabouts seem more than usual forward.  Which an unprejoodiced man might call it a drawback.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Bias, she would keep talkin’ about the darned box. . . .  I couldn’ prevent the lads, d’ye see—­not knowin’ they’d any such thing in their minds.”

“She as good as invited herself to call an’ listen to it,” Tobias pursued stolidly.  “You headed her off very well.  ‘Tis possible, o’ course, we may get tired o’ the tunes in time; an’ then she may be welcome to it for a spell.  We’ll see.  Plenty o’ time for that when we’ve done listenin’ to it together.”

Captain Cai halted and gazed at his friend with an emotion too deep for words.  But Tobias did not see:  he was staring up at a wire which crossed the street overhead.

“Telephone!  What next? . . .  You never told me, neither—­or not to my recollection—­as you went in for speech-makin’.”

“But I don’t.  I—­er—­the fact is, I had thoughts of takin’ a lesson or two.  Private lessons, you understand.”

“You don’t need to, so far as I can see.  What was it I heard you tellin’ that widow-woman?—­’You was made the recipient—­of sentiments—­ which emanated’—­that’s the way to talk to ’em in public life.  I can reckernise the lingo, though I couldn’ manage it for worlds, an’ don’t know as I want to try.”

“Troy is my native town, you see,” explained Cai, drinking encouragement.

“An’ a rattlin’ fine one, too!” Tobias halted in front of a wall letter-box.  “Look at that, now!  ‘Hours of Collection’ so-an’-so.  It do make a difference—­fancy a thing o’ that sort at sea! . . .  D’ye know, although you never expressed yourself that way, I’d always a thought at the back o’ my head that you’d end by takin’ up with public life in one form or another.”

“It has been hinted to me,” confessed Cai, colouring.  “As one might say, it has been—­er—­”

“Emanated,” his friend suggested.

“It has been emanated, then—­that there was a thing or two wanted puttin’ to rights.”

“We’ll make notes as we go along.”

“But I don’t want you to start by lookin’ out our little weaknesses!” cried Cai, suddenly fearful for his beloved town.