"All right.We will get something to eat when it's ready," he said, waving the anxious Chinaman waiter aside.He took his temples touched with grey between his hands, leaning over the table to bring his face, his dark, keen eyes, closer to mine.
"Davidson then was commanding the steamer Sissie - the little one which we used to chaff him about.He ran her alone, with only the Malay serang for a deck officer.The nearest approach to another white man on board of her was the engineer, a Portuguese half-caste, as thin as a lath and quite a youngster at that.For all practical purposes Davidson was managing that command of his single-handed; and of course this was known in the port.I am telling you of it because the fact had its influence on the developments you shall hear of presently.
"His steamer, being so small, could go up tiny creeks and into shallow bays and through reefs and over sand-banks, collecting produce, where no other vessel but a native craft would think of venturing.It is a paying game, often.Davidson was known to visit in her places that no one else could find and that hardly anybody had ever heard of.
"The old dollars being called in, Davidson's Chinaman thought that the Sissie would be just the thing to collect them from small traders in the less frequented parts of the Archipelago.It's a good business.Such cases of dollars are dumped aft in the ship's lazarette, and you get good freight for very little trouble and space.
"Davidson, too, thought it was a good idea; and together they made up a list of his calls on his next trip.Then Davidson (he had naturally the chart of his voyages in his head) remarked that on his way back he might look in at a certain settlement up a mere creek, where a poor sort of white man lived in a native village.
Davidson pointed out to his Chinaman that the fellow was certain to have some rattans to ship.
"'Probably enough to fill her forward,' said Davidson.'And that'll be better than bringing her back with empty holds.A day more or less doesn't matter.'
"This was sound talk, and the Chinaman owner could not but agree.
But if it hadn't been sound it would have been just the same.
Davidson did what he liked.He was a man that could do no wrong.
However, this suggestion of his was not merely a business matter.
There was in it a touch of Davidsonian kindness.For you must know that the man could not have continued to live quietly up that creek if it had not been for Davidson's willingness to call there from time to time.And Davidson's Chinaman knew this perfectly well, too.So he only smiled his dignified, bland smile, and said: 'All right, Captain.You do what you like.'
"I will explain presently how this connection between Davidson and that fellow came about.Now I want to tell you about the part of this affair which happened here - the preliminaries of it.
"You know as well as I do that these tiffin-rooms where we are sitting now have been in existence for many years.Well, next day about twelve o'clock, Davidson dropped in here to get something to eat.
"And here comes the only moment in this story where accident - mere accident - plays a part.If Davidson had gone home that day for tiffin, there would be now, after twelve years or more, nothing changed in his kindly, placid smile.
"But he came in here; and perhaps it was sitting at this very table that he remarked to a friend of mine that his next trip was to be a dollar-collecting trip.He added, laughing, that his wife was making rather a fuss about it.She had begged him to stay ashore and get somebody else to take his place for a voyage.She thought there was some danger on account of the dollars.He told her, he said, that there were no Java-sea pirates nowadays except in boys'
books.He had laughed at her fears, but he was very sorry, too;for when she took any notion in her head it was impossible to argue her out of it.She would be worrying herself all the time he was away.Well, he couldn't help it.There was no one ashore fit to take his place for the trip.
"This friend of mine and I went home together in the same mail-boat, and he mentioned that conversation one evening in the Red Sea while we were talking over the things and people we had just left, with more or less regret.
"I can't say that Davidson occupied a very prominent place.Moral excellence seldom does.He was quietly appreciated by those who knew him well; but his more obvious distinction consisted in this, that he was married.Ours, as you remember, was a bachelor crowd;in spirit anyhow, if not absolutely in fact.There might have been a few wives in existence, but if so they were invisible, distant, never alluded to.For what would have been the good? Davidson alone was visibly married.
"Being married suited him exactly.It fitted him so well that the wildest of us did not resent the fact when it was disclosed.
Directly he had felt his feet out here, Davidson sent for his wife.
She came out (from West Australia) in the Somerset, under the care of Captain Ritchie - you know, Monkey-face Ritchie - who couldn't praise enough her sweetness, her gentleness, and her charm.She seemed to be the heaven-born mate for Davidson.She found on arrival a very pretty bungalow on the hill, ready for her and the little girl they had.Very soon he got for her a two-wheeled trap and a Burmah pony, and she used to drive down of an evening to pick up Davidson, on the quay.When Davidson, beaming, got into the trap, it would become very full all at once.
