y grey in tone. Mr Black was essentially a dirty little
man. His hands and face were dirty, so dirty that his only clerk (a
dirty little boy) held the firm belief that the famous soap which is
said to wash black men white, could not cleanse his master. His office
was dirty, so were his garments, and so was his mean little spirit,
which occupied itself exclusively in scraping together a paltry little
income, by means of little ways known only to its owner. Mr Black had
a soul, he admitted that; but he had no regard for it, and paid no
attention to it whatever. Into whatever corner of his being it had been
thrust, he had so covered it over and buried it under heaps of rubbish
that it was quite lost to sight and almost to memory. He had a
conscience also, but had managed to sear it to such an extent that
although still alive, it had almost ceased to feel.

Turning to the shipping news, Mr Black's eye was arrested by a message
from the sea. He read it, and, as he did so, his hands closed on the
newspaper convulsively; his eyes opened, so did his mouth, and his face
grew deadly pale--that is to say, it became a light greenish grey.

"Anything wrong, sir?" asked the dirty clerk.

"The _Lively Poll_," gasped Mr Black, "is at the bottom of the sea!"

"She's in a lively position, then," thought the dirty clerk, who cared
no more for the _Lively Poll_ than he did for her part-owner; but he
only replied, "O dear!" with a solemn look of hypocritical sympathy.

Mr Black seized his hat, rushed out of his office, and paid a sudden
visit to his neighbour, Mr Walter Wilkins, senior. That gentleman was
in the act of running his eye over his newspaper. He was a wealthy
merchant. Turning on his visitor a bland, kindly countenance, he bade
him good-morning.

"I do hope--excuse me, my dear sir," said Mr Black excitedly, "I do
hope you will see your way to grant me the accommodation I ventured to
ask for yesterday. My business is in such a state that this disaster to
the _Lively Poll_--"

"The _Lively Poll_!" exclaimed Mr Wilkins, with a start.

"Oh, I beg pardon," said Mr Black, with a confused look, for his seared
conscience became slightly sensitive at that moment. "I suppose you
have not yet seen it (he pointed to the paragraph); but, excuse me, I
cannot understand how you came to know that your son was on board--
pardon me--"

Mr Wilkins had laid his face in his hands, and groaned aloud, then
looking up suddenly, sa