ted to find a vessel on which there would be no possible chance of
his being recognised, and for this reason also the big liners were
unsuitable. Leaving the hotel, he went into the town, scanned the
wharves, and entered into conversation with men who had their dealings
in great waters. At last, and quite by chance, he happened upon the very
vessel he wanted. She was the _Diamintina_, a steamer of some three
thousand tons, engaged in the South American trade. Her steam was
already up, and, as Max was informed, she was to sail that afternoon for
Rio de Janeiro. He inquired the name of the agents, and as soon as he
had discovered their address, set off in search of the office
post-haste. The clerk who did him the honour to inquire his business
informed him that he was quite right in supposing that she would sail
that afternoon, and went even so far as to add that she had sufficient
accommodation for half a dozen passengers, four of which were already
booked. The chance seemed too good to be lost. Brazil was the country he
had always had a desire to visit; now he paid the money demanded of him
and received his ticket in exchange. An hour later he had made his way
on board and the voyage to South America had commenced. Max stood at the
port bulwarks as the vessel steamed slowly down the river, and watched
the shore slip past with what was almost a feeling of wonderment at his
position. At last he might consider himself freed from his past life. He
had a hundred pounds in the belt that was safely clasped round his
waist, ten pounds in his pocket, and when that was gone he would have
nothing to depend upon, save his health and his determination to
succeed. By nightfall they were out in more open water, and a brisk sea
was running. Fortunately, Max was an excellent sailor, and enjoyed
rather than disliked the active motion of the steamer. To his surprise,
when the dinner-bell rang at six o'clock, he, the captain, and one
solitary passenger were all who sat down to table. They were the only
three to sit down at subsequent meals during the voyage. The captain was
inclined to be agreeable, and Max's fellow saloon passenger was the
Senor Francisco Moreas, and he was, by his own account, an old resident
in Brazil. Be that as it may, and I am certainly not in a position to
contradict it, he had seen more of the world than the average man. His
age must have been between forty and forty-five; his appearance was that
of a typical Spaniar