The steward's pantry, separated by crosshalls and by the stairway leading into the chart-room above on the poop, was placed strategically in the centre of all its operations.

Thus, on the starboard side of it were the state-rooms of the captain and Miss West, for'ard of it were the dining-room and main cabin; while on the port side of it was the row of rooms I have described, two of which were mine.
I ventured down the hall toward the stern, and found it opened into the stern of the _Elsinore_, forming a single large apartment at least thirty- five feet from side to side and fifteen to eighteen feet in depth, curved, of course, to the lines of the ship's stern.

This seemed a store- room.

I noted wash-tubs, bolts of canvas, many lockers, hams and bacon hanging, a step-ladder that led up through a small hatch to the poop, and, in the floor, another hatch.
I spoke to the steward, an old Chinese, smooth-faced and brisk of movement, whose name I never learned, but whose age on the articles was fifty-six.
"What is down there ?" I asked, pointing to the hatch in the floor.
"Him lazarette," he answered.
"And who eats there ?" I indicated a table with two stationary sea-chairs.
"Him second table.

Second mate and carpenter him eat that table." When I had finished giving instructions to Wada for the arranging of my things I looked at my watch.