“Only to a layman! For a worminger, style and harmony of purpose are everything!”

“You have your problems; I have mine.”

“How so? I thought that all went smoothly.”

“To a certain extent. As you may be aware, Madame Soldinck is a woman of strong and immutable purposes.”

“I divined something along those lines.”

“At lunch today I mentioned that our position was two or three days sail north-east of Lausicaa.”

“That would be my own reckoning, by the lay of the sea,” said Drofo. “It is an interesting island. Pulk the worminger lives at Pompodouros.”

“Are you acquainted with the Paphnissian Baths?”

“Not of my own experience. I believe that women bathe in these springs hoping to regain youth and beauty.”

“Just so. Madame Soldinck, we will agree, is an estimable woman.”

“In every respect. She is stern in her principles, unyielding in her rectitude, and she will not submit to injustice.”

“Yes. Bork calls her opinionated, obstinate and cantankerous, but this is not quite the same thing.”

“Bork’s language at least has the merit of economy,” said Drofo.

“In any event, Madame Soldinck is neither young nor beautiful. Indeed, she is plump and squat. Her face is prognathous and she wears a faint black mustache. She is definitely genteel and her character is strong, so that Soldinck is guided by her suggestions. So now, since Madame Soldinck wishes to bathe in the Paphnissian Springs, we must perforce put in to Lausicaa.”

“The event will serve my own interests very well,” said Drofo. “At Pompodouros I will hire the worminger Pulk and discharge either Cugel or Lankwiler, who can then find his own way back to the mainland.”

“Not a bad idea, if Pulk still resides at Pompodouros.”

“He does indeed and will gladly return to the sea.”

“In that case, half your problems are solved. Which will you put ashore: Cugel or Lankwiler?”

“I have not yet decided. It will depend on the worms.”

The two men moved away and Cugel was left to ponder the conversation. It seemed that, at least until the Galante departed Lausicaa, he must work with vigor, and diminish his attentions to Soldinck’s daughters.

Cugel at once found his scrapers and removed all traces of gangue from his worms, then combed gills till they shone silver-pink.

Lankwiler meanwhile had inspected the advanced infestation of timp on his off-worm. During the night he painted the knobs of this worm blue and then, while Cugel drowsed, he drove his off-worm around the vessel and exchanged it for Cugel’s excellent off-worm, which he clamped into place on his own side. He painted the knobs yellow and congratulated himself that he had avoided a tedious task.

In the morning Cugel was startled to discover the deterioration of his off-worm.

Drofo came past and called down to Cugel: “That infestation of timp is an abomination. Also, unless I am much mistaken, that swelling indicates a severe impaction which must be relieved at once.”

Cugel, recalling the overheard conversation, went to work with a will. While towed underwater he plied reamer, drench-hoses and gant-hook, and after three hours exertion, dislodged the impaction. At once the worm lost something of its bilious color and strained for its bait with renewed zest.

When Cugel finally returned to the deck he heard Drofo call down to Lankwiler: “Your off-worm has improved noticeably! Keep up the good work!”

Cugel went to look down at Lankwiler’s off-worm … Strange that overnight Lankwiler’s impacted yellow beast with its crawling infestation of timp should become so notably sound, while, during the same interval, Cugel’s healthy pink worm had suffered so profound a disaster!

Cugel pondered the circumstances with care. He climbed down on the sponson and scraped at the off-worm’s knobs, to discover under the blue paint, the gleam of yellow.

Cugel ruminated further, then transferred his worms, placing the healthy worm in the ‘off’ position.

While Cugel and Lankwiler took their evening meal, Cugel spoke of his trials. “Amazing how quickly they take up a case of timp, or an impaction! All day I worked on the beast, and tonight I moved it inboard where I can tend it more conveniently.”

“A sound idea,” said Lankwiler. “At last I have cured one of my beasts, and the other shows signs of improvement. Have you heard? We are putting into Lausicaa, so that Madame Soldinck can dive into the Paphnissian waters and emerge a virgin.”

“I will tell you something in absolute confidence,” said Cugel. “The deck boy tells me that Drofo plans to hire a veteran worminger by the name of Pulk at Pompodouros.”

Lankwiler chewed his lips. “Why should he do that? He already has two expert wormingers.”

“I can hardly believe that he plans to discharge you or yet me,” said Cugel. “Still, that would seem the only possibility.”

Lankwiler frowned and finished his meal in silence.

Cugel waited until Lankwiler went off for his evening nap, then stole down to the starboard sponson and cut deeply into the knobs of Lankwiler’s sick beast; then, returning to his own sponson, he made a great show of attacking the timp.

From the corner of his eye he saw Drofo come to the rail, pause a moment, then continue on his way.

At midnight the baits were removed so that the worms might rest. The Galante floated quietly on the calm sea. The helmsman lashed the wheel; the deck boy drowsed under the great forward lantern where he was supposed to keep sharp lookout. Overhead glimmered those stars yet surviving including Achernar, Algol, Canopus and Cansaspara.

From his cranny crept Lankwiler. He slipped across the deck like a great black rat, and swung down to the starboard sponson. He unclamped the sick worm and urged it from its traces.

The worm floated free. Lankwiler sat in the straddles and pulled at the knobs but the nerves had been severed and the signal caused only pain. The worm beat its flukes and surged away to the northwest, with Lankwiler sitting a-straddle and frantically tugging at the knobs.

In the morning Lankwiler’s disappearance dominated all conversations. Chief Worminger Drofo, Captain Baunt and Soldinck met in the grand saloon to discuss the affair, and presently Cugel was called before the group.

Soldinck, sitting on a tall-backed chair of carved skeel, cleared his throat. “Cugel, as you know, Lankwiler has gone off with a valuable worm. Can you shed any light on the affair?”

“Like everyone else, I can only theorize.”

“We would be pleased to hear your ideas,” said Soldinck.

Cugel spoke in a judicious voice: “I believe that Lankwiler despaired of becoming a competent worminger. His worms went sick, and Lankwiler could not face up to the challenge. I tried to help him; I let him take one of my sound worms so that I might bring his sickly creature back to health, as Drofo must surely have noticed, although he was unusually reticent in this regard.”

Soldinck turned to Drofo. “Is this true? If so, it reflects great credit upon Cugel.”

Drofo spoke in a subdued voice: “Yesterday morning I counseled Cugel in this regard.”

Soldinck turned back to Cugel. “Continue, if you will.”

“I can only surmise that dejection urged Lankwiler to perform a final despairing act.”