t freshness which still clung to
the morning, and settled his shoulders like a recruiting sergeant.

"How well the man has studied his English!" thought Fitzgerald. He
rarely hesitated for a word, and his idioms were always nicely adjusted.

The admiral was alone. He received them with an easy courtliness,
which is more noticeable in the old world than in the new. He directed
the servants to take charge of the luggage, and to Breitmann there was
never a word about work. That had all been decided by letter. He
urged the new secretary to return to the library as soon as he had
established himself.

"Strange that you should know the man," said the admiral. "It comes in
pat. From what you say, he must be a brilliant fellow. But this
situation seems rather out of his line."

"We all have our ups and downs, admiral. I've known a pinch or two
myself. We are an improvident lot, we writers, who wander round the
globe; rich to-day, poor to-morrow. But on the other hand, it's
something to set down on paper what a king says, the turn of a battle,
to hobnob with famous men, explorers, novelists, painters, soldiers,
scientists, to say nothing of the meat in the pie and the bottom crust.
I'm going to write a novel some day myself."

"Here," said the admiral, with a sweep of the hand, which included the
row upon row of books, "come here to do it. Make it a pirate story;
there's always room for another."

"But it takes a Stevenson to write it. It is very good of you, though.
Where is Miss Killigrew this morning?"

"She hasn't returned from her ride. Ah! Come in, Mr. Breitmann, and
sit down. By the way, you two must be fair horsemen."

Breitmann smiled, and Fitzgerald laughed.

"I dare say," replied the latter, "that there's only one thing we two
haven't ridden: ostriches. Camels and elephants and donkeys; we've
done some warm sprinting. Eh, Breitmann?"

The secretary agreed with a nod. He was rather grateful for
Fitzgerald's presence. This occupation was not going to be menial; at
the least, there would be pleasant sides to it. And, then, it might
not take him a week to complete his own affair. There was no
misreading the admiral; he was a gentleman, affable, kindly, and a good
story-teller, too, crisp and to the point, sailor fashion. Breitmann
cleverly drew him out. Pirates! He dared not smile. Why, there was
hardly such a thing in the pearl zone, and China was on the highway to
respectability. A