the ship going he had been involving himself deeper
every year. He was defenseless before the insidious work

of adversity, to whose more open assaults he could pre-
sent a firm front; like a cliff that stands unmoved the

open battering of the sea, with a lofty ignorance of the
treacherous backwash undermining its base. As it was,

every liability satisfied, her request answered, and owing
no man a penny, there remained to him from the pro-

ceeds a sum of five hundred pounds put away safely. In
addition he had upon his person some forty odd dollars

--enough to pay his hotel bill, providing he did not
linger too long in the modest bedroom where he had

taken refuge.
Scantily furnished, and with a waxed floor, it opened

into one of the side-verandas. The straggling building
of bricks, as airy as a bird-cage, resounded with the

incessant flapping of rattan screens worried by the wind
between the white-washed square pillars of the sea-front.

The rooms were lofty, a ripple of sunshine flowed over
the ceilings; and the periodical invasions of tourists from

some passenger steamer in the harbor flitted through the
wind-swept dusk of the apartments with the tumult of

their unfamiliar voices and impermanent presences, like
relays of migratory shades condemned to speed headlong

round the earth without leaving a trace. The babble
of their irruptions ebbed out as suddenly as it had arisen;

the draughty corridors and the long chairs of the ve-
randas knew their sight-seeing hurry or their prostrate

repose no more; and Captain Whalley, substantial and
dignified, left wellnigh alone in the vast hotel by each

light-hearted skurry, felt more and more like a stranded
tourist with no aim in view, like a forlorn traveler with-

out a home. In the solitude of his room he smoked
thoughtfully, gazing at the two sea-chests which held all

that he could call his own in this world. A thick roll of
charts in a sheath of sailcloth leaned in a corner; the

flat packing-case containing the portrait in oils and
the three carbon photographs had been pushed under

the bed. He was tired of discussing terms, of assisting
at surveys, of all the routine of the business. What to

the other parties was merely the sale of a ship was to
him a momentous event involving a radically new view of

existence. He knew that after this ship there would
be no other; and the hopes of his youth, the exercise of

his abilities, every feeling and achievement of his man-
hood, had been indissolubly connected with ships. He

had served ships; he had owned ships; and even the
years of his actualretirement from the sea had been made

bearable by the idea that he had only to stretch out his
hand full of money to get a ship. He had been at

liberty to feel as though he were the owner of all the
ships in the world. The selling of this one was weary

work; but when she passed from him at last, when he
signed the last receipt, it was as though all the ships

had gone out of the world together, leaving him on the
shore of inaccessible oceans with seven hundred pounds

in his hands.
Striding firmly, without haste, along the quay, Captain

Whalley averted his glances from the familiar roadstead.
Two generations of seamen born since his first day at

sea stood between him and all these ships at the anchor-
age. His own was sold, and he had been asking him-

self, What next?
From the feeling of loneliness, of inward emptiness,

--and of loss too, as if his very soul had been taken
out of him forcibly,--there had sprung at first a desire

to start right off and join his daughter. "Here are the
last pence," he would say to her; "take them, my dear.

And here's your old father: you must take him too."
His soul recoiled, as if afraid of what lay hidden at

the bottom of this impulse. Give up! Never! When
one is thoroughly weary all sorts of nonsense come into

one's head. A pretty gift it would have been for a poor
woman--this seven hundred pounds with the incumbrance

of a hale old fellow more than likely to last for years
and years to come. Was he not as fit to die in harness

as any of the youngsters in charge of these anchored
ships out yonder? He was as solid now as ever he had

been. But as to who would give him work to do, that
was another matter. Were he, with his appearance and

antecedents, to go about looking for a junior's berth,
people, he was afraid, would not take him seriously; or

else if he succeeded in impressing them, he would maybe
obtain their pity, which would be like stripping your-

self naked to be kicked. He was not anxious to give
himself away for less than nothing. He had no use

for anybody's pity. On the other hand, a command--
the only thing he could try for with due regard for

common decency--was not likely to be lying in wait for
him at the corner of the next street. Commands don't

go a-begging nowadays. Ever since he had come ashore
to carry out the business of the sale he had kept his

ears open, but had heard no hint of one being vacant
in the port. And even if there had been one, his suc-

cessful past itself stood in his way. He had been his
own employer too long. The only credential he could

produce was the testimony of his whole life. What
better recommendation could anyone require? But

vaguely he felt that the uniquedocument would be
looked upon as an archaic curiosity of the Eastern

waters, a screed traced in obsolete words--in a half-for-
gotten language.

IV
Revolving these thoughts, he strolled on near the rail-

ings of the quay, broad-chested, without a stoop, as
though his big shoulders had never felt the burden of

the loads that must be carried between the cradle and
the grave. No single betraying fold or line of care

disfigured the reposeful modeling of his face. It was
full and untanned; and the upper part emerged, mas-

sively quiet, out of the downward flow of silvery hair,
with the strikingdelicacy of its clear complexion and

the powerful width of the forehead. The first cast of
his glance fell on you candid and swift, like a boy's;

but because of the ragged snowy thatch of the eyebrows
the affability of his attention acquired the character of

a dark and searching scrutiny. With age he had put
on flesh a little, had increased his girth like an old tree

presenting no symptoms of decay; and even the opulent,
lustrous ripple of white hairs upon his chest seemed an

attribute of unquenchable vitality and vigor.
Once rather proud of his great bodily strength, and

even of his personal appearance, conscious of his worth,
and firm in his rectitude, there had remained to him,

like the heritage of departedprosperity, the tranquil
bearing of a man who had proved himself fit in every

sort of way for the life of his choice. He strode on
squarely under the projecting brim of an ancient Panama

hat. It had a low crown, a crease through its whole
diameter, a narrow black ribbon. Imperishable and a

little discolored, this headgear made it easy to pick him