He nervously shifted his bag from one hand to the other, and looked round as though not certain of where he should go.

A steward came to him officiously, and patronisingly too,--which is the bearing of servants to shabbily-dressed people,--but he shook his head, caught his bag smartly away from the steward's fingers, and moved towards the after part of the ship, reserved for intermediate passengers.

As he went he hesitated, came to the side of the vessel, looked down at the tender for a moment, cast his eyes to where the anchor was being weighed, made as if he would go back to the tender, then, seeing that the ladder was now drawn up, sighed, and passed on to the second-class companion-way, through which he disappeared.
I stood commenting idly to myself upon this incident, which, slight though it was, appeared to have significance of a kind, when Hungerford, the fifth officer, caught me slyly by the arm and said, "Lucky fellow! Nothing to do but watch the world go by.

I wish I had you in the North Atlantic on a whaler, or in the No Man's Sea on a pearl-smack for a matter of thirty days." "What would come of that, Hungerford ?" said I.
"An exchange of matter for mind, Marmion; muscle for meditation, physics for philosophy." "You do me too much honour; at present I've neither mind, meditation, nor philosophy; I am simply vegetating." "Which proves you to be demoralised.

I never saw a surgeon on a ship who wasn't.