ng much
of the night to his more lucrative concern.

These long-headed men of business little knew the man. They did not know
that he was _great_ in the highest sense of the term, and that, among
other elements of his greatness, he possessed the power of seizing the
little things--the little opportunities--of life, and turning them to
the best account; and that he not only knew what should be done; and how
to do it, but was gifted with that inflexible determination of purpose
to carry out a design, without which knowledge and talent can never
accomplish great things. The merchant did not, as they supposed, work
late at night. He measured his time, and measured his work. In this he
was like many other men in this struggling world; but he _stuck_ to his
time and to his work, in which respect he resembled the great few whose
names stand prominent on the page of history.

In consequence of this, Mr. Stuart wrought with success at both
departments of his business, and while in the one he coined thousands,
in the other he earned more than the average wages of a working-man.

The Avenger was erratic and uncertain in her voyages. She evidently
sailed to the principal islands of the South Seas, and did business with
them all. From one of these voyages, Henry, her captain, returned with a
wife,--a dark-haired, dark-eyed, lady-like girl,--for whom he built a
small cottage beside his father's, and left her there while he was away
at sea.

It was observed by the clerks in Mr. Stuart's counting-room, that their
chief accountant, Mr. Corrie, was a great letter-writer,--that when one
letter was finished, he invariably began another, and kept it by him,
adding sheet after sheet to it until the Avenger returned and carried it
off. Once Mr. Corrie was called hurriedly away while in the act of
addressing one of these epistles. He left it lying on his desk, and a
small, contemptible, little apprentice allowed his curiosity so far to
get the better of him, that he looked at the address, and informed his
companions that Mr. Corrie's correspondent was a certain Miss Alice
Mason!

Of course, Mr. Corrie received voluminous replies from this mysterious
Alice; and, if one might judge from his expression on reading these
epistles (as that contemptible little apprentice _did_ judge), the
course of _his_ love ran smoother than usual; thus, by its
exceptionality, proving the truth of the rule.

Years passed away. The merchant's head became gray