ad anything to do with him
before.

I said: "Oh! He has asked for me twice. Then perhaps I had better go
in."

"You must! You must!"

The Shipping-Master led the way with a mincing gait around the whole
system of desks to a tall and important-looking door, which he opened
with a deferential action of the arm.

He stepped right in (but without letting go of the handle) and, after
gazing reverently down the room for a while, beckoned me in by a silent
jerk of the head. Then he slipped out at once and shut the door after me
most delicately.

Three lofty windows gave on the harbour. There was nothing in them but
the dark-blue sparkling sea and the paler luminous blue of the sky. My
eye caught in the depths and distances of these blue tones the white
speck of some big ship just arrived and about to anchor in the outer
roadstead. A ship from home--after perhaps ninety days at sea. There is
something touching about a ship coming in from sea and folding her white
wings for a rest.

The next thing I saw was the top-knot of silver hair surmounting Captain
Ellis' smooth red face, which would have been apoplectic if it hadn't
had such a fresh appearance.

Our deputy-Neptune had no beard on his chin, and there was no trident
to be seen standing in a corner anywhere, like an umbrella. But his
hand was holding a pen--the official pen, far mightier than the sword in
making or marring the fortune of simple toiling men. He was looking over
his shoulder at my advance.

When I had come well within range he saluted me by a nerve-shattering:
"Where have you been all this time?"

As it was no concern of his I did not take the slightest notice of the
shot. I said simply that I had heard there was a master needed for some
vessel, and being a sailing-ship man I thought I would apply. . . .

He interrupted me. "Why! Hang it! _You_ are the right man for that job--if
there had been twenty others after it. But no fear of that. They are all
afraid to catch hold. That's what's the matter."

He was very irritated. I said innocently: "Are they, sir. I wonder why?"

"Why!" he fumed. "Afraid of the sails. Afraid of a white crew. Too much
trouble. Too much work. Too long out here. Easy life and deck-chairs
more their mark. Here I sit with the Consul-General's cable before me,
and the only man fit for the job not to be found anywhere. I began to
think you were funking it, too. . . ."

"I haven't been long getting to the office," I remarked