n in books. He had travelled because he
couldn't help it, and consequently had seen and done things that more
well-to-do travellers are debarred from. He had housed amongst the most
iniquitous places on God's earth, from Callao to Port Said; he had
wandered from Yokohama to Mandalay; he had been trimmer on a
Shaw-Savile boat; he had served as mate on a Genovese timber barque.

He told of all these matters with an open contempt, in which Haigh
(when he did not happen to be dozing) readily joined him. The pair of
them had both knocked about the world largely. But it was not because
they liked it. It was the Fates that had ordained their first cycle of
vagabondage. This new mode of living in a shifting house--to wit, the
ugly cutter--was taken up because sea-roaming had been so thoroughly
ingrained into their natures that as yet neither of them had found a
spot he cared to settle down in permanently.

The rolling stone aphorism had been pretty accurately fulfilled in
Cospatric's case. He had gathered during the greater part of his
nomadic life little moss which he could convert into a bank-note
equivalent. Another man might have utilized some of the material; he
lacked the skill to set it in vendible form. With one solitary
exception, his gains during those vagrant years may be summed up under
two heads. He had gathered a knowledge of certain orders of his species
that was both extensive and peculiar; and he had amassed a collection
of tattooings that was unique for a European. The former he cared not
one jot about, displaying his intimate acquaintance with the shadier
side of the world's peoples with apologies; but in the latter he took
an almost childish pride. They were not, he pointed out, the rude
frescoings of the British mariner, who outlines a diagrammatic female
with a sail needle, tints her with gunpowder, and labels her with the
name of his current lady-love to prevent mistakes. Such crude efforts
have their good points; for instance, they promote constancy. But they
are hideously inartistic, and, moreover, to a man of ordinarily fickle
nature, are apt to bring in very damning evidence at the most
inopportune moments. Whereas (still according to Cospatric) the higher
types of these human frescoes spell Art, with a very big A, and form a
portable picture gallery which no spasmodic poverty can ever induce one
to pawn or otherwise part with.

The adaptability of the medium for artistic design is a matter open to