that interpreter.  Should another guest be found, he might also be an Englishman, and I might thus form an acquaintance which would be desirable.  Thinking of these things, I walked the quay for some minutes in a happy state of mind; but by degrees I became impatient, and by degrees also disturbed in my spirit.  I observed that one of the Arab boatmen walked round from the vessel to the front of the hotel, and that on his return he looked at me—as I thought, not with courteous eyes.  Then also I saw, or rather heard, some one in the verandah of the hotel above me, and was conscious that I was being viewed from thence.  I walked and walked, and nobody came to me, and I perceived by my watch that it was seven o’clock.  The noise, too, had come nearer and nearer, and I was now aware that wheels had been drawn up before the front door of the hotel, and that many voices were speaking there.  It might be that Mahmoud should wait for some other friend, but why did he not send some one to inform me?  And then, as I made a sudden turn at the end of the quay, I caught sight of the retreating legs of the Austrian interpreter, and I became aware that he had been sent down, and had gone away, afraid to speak to me.  “What can I do?” said I to myself, “I can but keep my ground.”  I owned that I feared to go round to the front of the hotel.  So I still walked slowly up and down the length of the quay, and began to whistle to show that I was not uneasy.  The Arab sailors looked at me uncomfortably, and from time to time some one peered at me round the corner.  It was now fully half-past seven, and the sun was becoming hot in the heavens.  Why did we not hasten to place ourselves beneath the awning in that boat.

I had just made up my mind that I would go round to the front and penetrate this mystery, when, on turning, I saw approaching to me a man dressed at any rate like an English gentleman.  As he came near to me, he raised his hat, and accosted me in our own language.  “Mr. George Walker, I believe?” said he.

“Yes,” said I, with some little attempt at a high demeanour,—“of the firm of Grimes, Walker, and Judkins, Friday Street, London.”

“A most respectable house, I am sure,” said he.  “I am afraid there has been a little mistake here.”

“No mistake as to the respectability of that house,” said I.  I felt that I was again alone in the world, and that it was necessary that I should support myself.  Mahmoud al Ackbar had separated himself from me for ever.  Of that I had no longer a doubt.

“Oh, none at all,” said he.  “But about this little expedition over the water;” and he pointed contemptuously to the boat.  “There has been a mistake about that, Mr. Walker; I happen to be the English Vice-Consul here.”

I took off my hat and bowed.  It was the first time I had ever been addressed civilly by any English consular authority.

“And they have made me get out of bed to come down here and explain all this to you.”

“All what?” said I.

“You are a man of the world, I know, and I’ll just tell it you plainly.  My old friend, Mahmoud al Ackbar, has mistaken you for Sir George Walker, the new Lieutenant-Governor of Pegu.  Sir George Walker is here now; he has come this morning; and Mahmoud is ashamed to face you after what has occurred.  If you won’t object to withdraw with me into the hotel, I’ll explain it all.”

I felt as though a thunderbolt had fallen; and I must say, that even up to this day I think that the Consul might have been a little less abrupt.  “We can get in here,” said he, evidently in a hurry, and pointing to a small door which opened out from one corner of the house to the quay.  What could I do but follow him?  I did follow him, and in a few words learned the remainder of the story.  When he had once withdrawn me from the public walk he seemed but little anxious about the rest, and soon left me again alone.  The facts, as far as I could learn them, were simply these.

Sir George Walker, who was now going out to Pegu as Governor, had been in India before, commanding an army there.  I had never heard of him before, and had made no attempt to pass myself off as his relative.  Nobody could have been more innocent than I was—or have received worse usage.  I have as much right to the name as he has.  Well; when he was in India before, he had taken the city of Begum after a terrible siege—Begum, I think the Consul called it; and Mahmoud had been there, having been, it seems, a great man at Begum, and Sir George had spared him and his money; and in this way the whole thing had come to pass.  There was no further explanation than that.  The rest of it was all transparent.  Mahmoud, having heard my name from the porter, had hurried down to invite me to his party.  So far so good.  But why had he been afraid to face me in the morning?  And, seeing that the fault had all been his, why had he not asked me to join the expedition?  Sir George and I may, after all, be cousins.  But, coward as he was, he had been afraid of me.  When they found that I was on the quay, they had been afraid of me, not knowing how to get rid of me.  I wish that I had kept the quay all day, and stared them down one by one as they entered the boat.  But I was down in the mouth, and when the Consul left me, I crept wearily back to my bedroom.

And the Consul did leave me almost immediately.  A faint hope had, at one time, come upon me that he would have asked me to breakfast.  Had he done so, I should have felt it as a full compensation for all that I had suffered.  I am not an exacting man, but I own that I like civility.  In Friday Street I can command it, and in Friday Street for the rest of my life will I remain.  From this Consul I received no civility.  As soon as he had got me out of the way and spoken the few words which he had to say, he again raised his hat and left me.  I also again raised mine, and then crept up to my bed-room.

From my window, standing a little behind the white curtain, I could see the whole embarkation.  There was Mahmoud al Ackbar, looking indeed a little hot, but still going through his work with all that excellence of deportment which had graced him on the preceding evening.  Had his foot slipped, and had he fallen backwards into that shallow water, my spirit would, I confess, have been relieved.  But, on the contrary, everything went well with him.  There was the real Sir George, my namesake and perhaps my cousin, as fresh as paint, cool from the bath which he had been taking while I had been walking on that terrace.  How is it that these governors and commanders-in-chief go through such a deal of work without fagging?  It was not yet two hours since he was jolting about in that omnibus-box, and there he had been all night.  I could not have gone off to the Well of Moses immediately on my arrival.  It’s the dignity of the position that does it.  I have long known that the head of a firm must never count on a mere clerk to get through as much work as he could do himself.  It’s the interest in the matter that supports the man.

They went, and Sir George, as I was well assured, had never heard a word about me.  Had he done so, is it probable that he would have requested my attendance?

But Mahmoud and his followers no doubt kept their own counsel as to that little mistake.  There they went, and the gentle rippling breeze filled their sail pleasantly, as the boat moved away into the bay.  I felt no spite against any of them but Mahmoud.  Why had he avoided me with such cowardice?  I could still see them when the morning tchibouk was handed to Sir George; and, though I wished him no harm, I did envy him as he lay there reclining luxuriously upon the cushions.

A more wretched day than that I never spent in my life.  As I went in and out, the porter at the gate absolutely scoffed at me.  Once I made up my mind to complain within the house.  But what could I have said of the dirty Arab?  They would have