tions, whose consequences we are never able to foresee," remarked
Marlow by way of assent.

"The consequence of his action was that I got a ship," said the other.
"That could not do much harm," he added with a laugh which argued a
probably unconscious contempt of general ideas.

But Marlow was not put off. He was patient and reflective. He had been
at sea many years and I verily believe he liked sea-life because upon
the whole it is favourable to reflection. I am speaking of the now
nearly vanished sea-life under sail. To those who may be surprised at
the statement I will point out that this life secured for the mind of
him who embraced it the inestimable advantages of solitude and silence.
Marlow had the habit of pursuing general ideas in a peculiar manner,
between jest and earnest.

"Oh, I wouldn't suggest," he said, "that your namesake Mr Powell, the
Shipping Master, had done you much harm. Such was hardly his intention.
And even if it had been he would not have had the power. He was but a
man, and the incapacity to achieve anything distinctly good or evil is
inherent in our earthly condition. Mediocrity is our mark. And perhaps
it's just as well, since, for the most part, we cannot be certain of the
effect of our actions."

"I don't know about the effect," the other stood up to Marlow manfully.
"What effect did you expect anyhow? I tell you he did something
uncommonly kind."

"He did what he could," Marlow retorted gently, "and on his own showing
that was not a very great deal. I cannot help thinking that there was
some malice in the way he seized the opportunity to serve you. He
managed to make you uncomfortable. You wanted to go to sea, but he
jumped at the chance of accommodating your desire with a vengeance. I
am inclined to think your cheek alarmed him. And this was an excellent
occasion to suppress you altogether. For if you accepted he was
relieved of you with every appearance of humanity, and if you made
objections (after requesting his assistance, mind you) it was open to
him to drop you as a sort of impostor. You might have had to decline
that berth for some very valid reason. From sheer necessity perhaps!
The notice was too uncommonly short. But under the circumstances you'd
have covered yourself with ignominy."

Our new friend knocked the ashes out of his pipe.

"Quite a mistake," he said. "I am not of the declining sort, though
I'll admit it was something like telling a man th