Saltash grinned at him. "Be careful! I see you are of a rash and impulsive disposition, and I like my slaves to have a little discretion. The promise I want is that whatever happens to you—however much I kick you or bash you or generally ill-use you—you'll never jump overboard or do anything silly of that kind. Is it done?"
Toby was standing before him, facing him with straight, candid eyes. He did not seem surprised at the suggestion so coolly made. Saltash noted that it certainly did not shock him.
"All right, sir," he said, after a moment.
"It's a promise, is it?" said Saltash.
Toby nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good!" said Saltash. He stretched out a hand and took him by one skinny arm. "Better now?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord." Toby's eyes smiling into his.
"Very well. I'll keep you," Saltash said. "Did anyone see you come aboard?"
"No, my lord."
"Then you came with me, see? I brought you—if anyone wants to know."
"Very good, my lord. Thank you, my lord."
Saltash made a humorous grimace. "You can call me 'sir' if you like," he said. "It makes no difference."
"Thank you, sir," said Toby with a responsive grin.
"And your name is Toby, is it? Toby what?"
"Toby Wright, sir." Very promptly the answer came.
Saltash's eyes scrutinized him with half derisive amusement. "I hope it's a good fit," he remarked. "Well, look here, Toby, you must go to bed. Did you bring any luggage on board?"
"No, sir. 'Fraid not, sir. Very sorry, sir. I came away in a hurry," explained Toby rather nervously.
"And stole the hotel livery," said Saltash.
"No, sir. Borrowed it," said Toby.
"Ho! You're going to pay for it, are you?" questioned Saltash.
"Yes, sir, some day. First money I get, sir. Don't want to have anything belonging to that damn' Italian cur," said Toby, with much emphasis.
"Naughty! Naughty!" said Saltash, pinching his arm. "Well, come along, and I'll show you where you can sleep. There's a small cabin out of my dressing-room you can have for the present. I haven't got my valet on board."
"Very good, sir, thank you. What time shall I call you, sir?" said Toby brightly.
"You needn't call me," said Saltash. "You can just lie quiet and take care of that black eye of yours. I'll let you know when I want you."
"Very good, sir," said Toby, looking crestfallen.
Saltash stood up. "And you'll do as you're told—see?—always! That's understood, is it?"
Toby smiled again, eagerly, gratefully. "Yes, sir. Always, sir!" he said promptly. "Shall I take off your boots before I go, sir?"
"No. Look after yourself for the present!" said Saltash. "And don't get up to mischief! There's a strict captain in command of this boat, so you'd better mind how you go."
The boy looked up at him with eyes of twinkling comprehension. He had plainly forgotten the despair that had so nearly overwhelmed him.
"Oh, I'll be very good, sir," he promised. "I won't get you into trouble anyhow, sir."
"You—imp!" said Saltash, pulling his ear. "Think I'll put up with your impudence, do you? You'll play that game once too often if you're not careful."
Toby hastened to adjust his features to a becoming expression of gravity. "I won't, sir. No, I won't. I'll be a good servant to you—the best you've ever had. I'll never forget your goodness to me, and I'll pay back somehow—that I will, sir."
His boyish voice suddenly throbbed with emotion, and he stopped. Again for a moment he had the forlorn look of a small animal astray from its own.
Saltash patted his shoulder kindly. "All right. That'll do. Don't be tragic about it! Come along to your burrow and have a good square sleep!"
He led him away without further words, and Toby went, gratefully and submissively.
A few minutes later Saltash came back with a smile on his ugly face, half-quizzical, and half-compassionate.
"Rum little devil!" he commented again as he began to undress. "So the gods had a gift for me after all! Wonder what I shall do with it!"
And then abruptly the smile became a mocking grimace that banished all the kindliness from his face. He snapped his fingers and laughed as he had laughed a little earlier when his cigarette had fallen into the water with a sound like the hiss of a serpent.
"I—wonder!" he said again.
CHAPTER IV
TOBY
It was contrary to Captain Larpent's habit to show surprise at any time, whatever the caprices of his patron, but he did look at Saltash somewhat harder than usual when the latter informed him in his breezy fashion of the unexpected addition to the yacht's company. He also frowned a little and smoothed his beard as though momentarily puzzled.
"You won't want to be bothered with him," he said after brief reflection.
"Better let him sleep in the forecastle."
"Not for the present," said Saltash. "I am going to train him, and I'll keep him under my own eye. The little beggar has had a pretty rough time of it to judge by appearances. I've a fancy for looking after him myself."
"What are you going to make of him?" asked Larpent.
Saltash laughed carelessly, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "I'll tell you that when I can show you the finished article. I'm keeping him below for the present. He's got a prize-fighter's eye which is not exactly an ornament. Like to have a look at him? You're ship's doctor."
Larpent shrugged his shoulders. "P'raps I'd better. I'm not over-keen on sudden importations. You never know what they may bring aboard with them."
Saltash's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Better inoculate the whole crew at once! He's more like a stray spaniel than anything else."
"A King Charles!" suggested Larpent, with the flicker of an eyelid.
"Well, my lord, let's have a look at your latest find!"
They went below, Saltash whistling a careless air. He was usually in high spirits when not suffering from boredom.
Someone else was whistling in the vicinity of his cabin, but it was not from the valet's cabin that the cheery sounds proceeded. They found him in the bathroom with an oily rag, rubbing up the taps.
He desisted immediately at their entrance and stood smartly at attention. His eye was badly swollen and discoloured, he looked wretchedly ill, but he managed to smile at Saltash, who took him by the shoulder and made him face the light.
"What are you doing in here, you—scaramouch? Didn't I tell you to lie still? Here he is, Larpent! What do you think of him? A poor sort of specimen, eh?"
"What's his name?" said Larpent.
"Toby Barnes, sir," supplied the boy promptly.
"And there's nothing under the sun he can't do except drive cars," put in
Saltash, "and obey orders."
Toby winced a little. "I'm sorry, sir. Only wanted to be useful, sir.
I'll go back to bed if you say so."
"What do