cabins, with those great windows looking directly out on to the sea, are simply delightful.”

“So I think,” agreed the gentleman. “And now, captain, as to terms?”

I had already made a little mental calculation as to the amount I ought to ask, and had arrived at a sum which, while it was somewhat less than I should have received had the whole of the cabins been separately taken, would pay me just as well in the long run; and this sum I named.

“There is one little matter I should like to mention,” I said. “My mother is now in town with me, and I had promised her that, if all the cabins were not engaged, she should make the trip home to Weymouth in the ship—”

“An arrangement with which I would not dream of interfering,” interrupted the gentleman. “Even should we determine to take your cabins, captain, we shall certainly not require them all—at the outset of the voyage, at least—and I am quite sure that your mother’s presence, for the few days that she will probably be with us, will be the reverse of disagreeable to my wife. And now I cannot, of course, decide definitely, one way or the other, until I have told my wife what we have seen; but here is my card; and if you will allow me twenty-four hours for consideration, you shall have my definite decision within that time.”

As this was the first inquiry I had had from prospective passengers, I thought the proposal was good enough to justify me in according the grace asked. I therefore undertook to hold the cabins at my visitors’ disposal until noon next day; and they then left, with a cordial hand-shake from each.

I waited till they were fairly out of sight, and then looked at the card. It bore the name of “Sir Edgar Desmond,” with an address in Park Lane, in the corner.

On the following morning, about half-past eleven, the owner of the card again put in an appearance on board, and, greeting me with the utmost cordiality, exclaimed—

“Well, captain, I have hurried down to let you know that the account of our visit to your ship, and the description of her cabins which I was enabled to give my wife last night, proved so thoroughly satisfactory to her that it was definitely determined, in family conclave, that we should secure your cabins upon the terms mentioned by you yesterday. I have accordingly brought you a cheque for half the amount of our passage-money—here it is—in order to properly ratify the arrangement; and now I presume there will be no difficulty about commencing the few alterations in the cabins that I suggested yesterday?”

“None whatever,” I replied; “I will get the carpenters on board to-day, if possible; and in any case the work shall be begun as early as possible, so that the paint may be thoroughly dry and the smell passed off before you come on board.”

“I shall be greatly obliged to you if you will,” said Sir Edgar. “And now there is another little matter upon which I wish to speak to you. My wife being quite an invalid, it will be necessary that she should have many little delicacies that are not included in the ordinary bill of shipboard fare. These I intend to order at once, and will give instructions that they are to be delivered on board here as soon as ready. May I rely upon you to have a careful account taken of them as they come on board, and to see that they are so bestowed that they may be easily got at when required? Among them will be a few cases of wines for Lady Desmond’s personal use; but, so far as the rest of us are concerned, I presume you will be able to supply us with whatever we may require?”

“Certainly,” I replied. “I have not yet ordered my stock of wines, and if you have a partiality for any particular kind or brand, and will let me know, I shall be pleased to select my stock with especial reference to your taste.”

“Oh, thank you. I am sure you are very good,” he laughed; “but we are none of us connoisseurs, nor do I think any of us have a weakness for any one particular kind of wine more than another. If you can undertake to give us a good sound claret every day for dinner, with a bottle of decent champagne now and then, we shall be perfectly content. And now, what is the longest possible time you can allow us in which to get together our outfit for the voyage?”

“We are advertised to sail to-morrow three weeks,” I replied.

“Very well,” he said. “That is rather brief notice for the ladies; but I have no doubt they will be able to manage when once they are given to understand that it must be done. As for me, I shall have no difficulty whatever. I shall be obliged, however, if you will give me a hint or two as to the different climates we shall encounter on the voyage, so that we may prepare accordingly.”

I did so, Sir Edgar jotting down a few memoranda in his note-book meanwhile; and then, with another hearty shake of the hand, my visitor left me.

The succeeding three weeks passed uneventfully away, the cargo, during the first fortnight, coming alongside very slowly; but there was quite a rush at the last, and on the night before the day on which we were advertised to sail, I had the satisfaction of seeing the hatches put on and battened down over a full hold, with the barque down to within an inch of her load-mark.

Meanwhile, private stores in considerable quantities had come on board, bearing Sir Edgar Desmond’s name upon them, and these I had had carefully stowed away by themselves. This had been a busy day for me; for there were the articles to be signed, the ship to clear at the Custom House, bills to pay, and a hundred other little matters to attend to—among them the giving up of my lodgings, and the removal of my mother and myself with our dunnage to the ship—but when I turned in that night, in my own comfortable state-room, it was with the feeling that my business of every kind had been satisfactorily concluded, and that henceforth, until our arrival in Hong Kong, I should only have the ship to look after. Moreover, the whole of my crew, with two exceptions, had faithfully kept their promise to be on board before the dock-gates closed that night, so that I might reasonably hope to go out of dock with a tolerably sober crew in the morning.

We unmoored at seven o’clock next morning, and half an hour later—the two absentees from the forecastle scrambling on board as we passed out through the gates—were clear of the dock and in the river, with the tug ahead and the first of the ebb to help us on our way. We made a pause of half an hour off Gravesend, to pick up Sir Edgar Desmond and his party—who had spent the night at an hotel there—and then, pushing on again, found ourselves, about six o’clock that evening, off the North Foreland, with a light northerly air blowing, which, when we had got the barque under all plain sail, fanned us along at a speed of about five knots.